Portrait  of  Tolstoy 

Etched  bv  W.  H.  W.  Bicknell  from  Photograph 


3)llustratrJi  ffiibrarg  E&ttinii 


CHILDHOOD 

BOYHOOD   •   YOUTH 

THE  INCURSION 

A  LANDED  PROPRIETOR 

THE  COSSACKS 

SEVASTOPOL 

By 
COUNT  LEV   N.  TOLSTOY 


Translated  from  the  Original  Russian 
and  edited  by 

PROFESSOR  LEO  WIENER 


*«/i^ 


■^^A^-^ 


BOSTON 

COLONIAL  PRESS  COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 


Copyright,  ig04 
By  Dana  Estes  &  Company 

Entered  at  iitationers'' Hall 


Colonial   Press  :    Electroiyped   and   Printed   by 
C.  H.  Simonds  &  Co.,  Boston,  Mass.,  IJ.  S.  A. 


Uffft. 


oc^  5^3i  cl<1i>( 


TRANSLATOR'S    PREFACE 


The  present  new  translation  of  Tolstoy  has  the  follow- 
ing distinctive  features  : 

The  translator  was  born  and  educated  in  Eussia,  and 
the  scenes  and  the  life  depicted,  and  the  ideas  evolved  by 
the  author,  are  familiar  to  him  as  to  a  native ;  on  the  other 
hand,  his  later  youth  and  his  manhood  have  been  passed 
in  America,  where  for  twenty  years  he  has  taken  active 
part  in  the  educational  and  the  literary  movements  of 
Anglo-Saxon  life.  Thus  he  is  enabled  correctly  to  inter- 
pret the  workings  of  the  greatest  Eussian  mind  both  from 
the  standpoint  of  a  Eussian  and  of  an  American.  Still 
further  to  ensure  literary  accuracy,  all  the  manuscript  has 
been  read  by  Miss  Carrie  A.  Harper,  herself  an  English 
authoress,  whose  advice  has  been  invaluable  to  him. 

The  translator  has  treated  the  author  with  sympathetic 
love,  which  in  many  instances  is  due  to  a  common  bond 
of  practices  of  life  and  of  ideas  :  the  translator  is  a  vegeta- 
rian and  teetotaler  of  even  longer  standing  than  the  author, 
and  shares  his  educational  ideas  both  in  theory  and  in 
practice.  At  the  same  time,  the  translator  is  absolutely 
free  from  any  personal  bias,  and  in  dealing  with  Tolstoy 
brings  to  bear  a  critical  spirit,  born  of  the  blending  of  the 
Eussian  and  the  Anglo-Saxon  concepts  of  life. 

No  liberties  are  taken  with  either  the  language  or  the 
expression  of  the  author's  diction,  which  in  unconscious 
artistic  moments  is  sublimely  poetical  and  sonorous,  and 


TRANSLATOR  S     PREFACE 

in  the  piling  up  of  Cyclopean  thoughts  lacks  the  binding 
mortar.  In  such  cases  the  translation  leaves  him  in  his 
original  gigantic  ruggedness.  No  attempt  has  been  made 
to  correct  Tolstoy's  style,  which  is  so  frequently  practised 
by  his  other  translators.  The  last  volume  will  contain  a 
sketch  of  Tolstoy's  life  and  works,  an  analysis  of  all 
his  productions,  a  complete  index  to  his  thoughts,  a  chron- 
ological table  of  the  incidents  in  his  life,  and  a  bibliogi-aphy 
of  English,  French,  and  German  books  and  magazine  arti- 
cles deahng  with  all  possible  aspects  of  Tolstoy  and  his 
works.  The  copious  illustrations  accompanying  the  pres- 
ent translation  are  mainly  from  Eussian  sources,  many  of 
them  rare,  and  invariably  illustrate  the  scenes  represented  ; 
wherever  possible,  existing  illustrations  to  Tolstoy  by 
native  artists  have  been  given. 

The  present  translation  contains  everything  given  in 
the  Eussian  complete  edition  published  in  Eussia,  with 
such  authorized  corrections  of  passages  mutilated  by  the 
censor  as  have  appeared  abroad,  and  all  the  pubhcations 
of  Tolstoy's  prohibited  works  which  have  appeared  in 
Switzerland  and  in  England.  The  only  works  omitted 
are  those  which  Tolstoy  himself  translated  from  other 
languages.  In  the  matter  of  text,  the  last  reliable  source 
has  been  given,  the  corrections  in  various  instances  reach- 
ing the  translator  just  as  the  translations  were  going 
through  the  press.  No  attempt  has  been  made  to  give 
older  readings  or  readings  mutilated  by  the  censor,  as  the 
time  for  a  critical  edition  has  not  yet  come.  Many  of 
the  manuscripts,  in  their  correct  form,  were  sent  by  Tol- 
stoy to  the  Eyumantsev  Museum,  with  the  proviso  that 
they  be  made  public  only  ten  years  after  his  death ; 
and  the  publications  that  have  appeared  abroad  sometimes 
rest  on  unreliable  manuscripts.  The  dates  given  for  each 
production  are  not  those  of  their  publication  (which  will 
be  given  in  the  chronological  table),  but  of  their  writing. 

The  Translator. 


CONTENTS 


CHILDHOOD 

CHAPTER 

I.  Karl  Ivanovicii,  Our  Teacher 

II.  Mamma     ..... 

III.  Papa 

IV.  The  Lessons    .... 
V.  The  Saintly  Fool 

VI.  Preparation  fou  thk  Hunt 

Vn.  The  Hunt        .... 

VIII.  Games 

IX.  Something  like  First  Love 

X.  The  Kind  of  .\  ]Man  My  Father 

XI.  Occupations  in  the  Cabinet   an 

Sitting  -  room 

XII.  GRfSHA 

XIII.  Natalya  Savishna 

XIV.  The  Separation 
XV.  Childhood 

XVI.  Poetry      . 

XVII.  Princess  Kornakov 

XVITI  Pa.xoE  Ivan  Iv.anovich 

XIX  The  Ivins 

XX.  Guests  Are  Coming 

XXI.  Before  the  Mazurka 

XXII.  The  Mazurka 


Was 

D     IN    THE 


PAGE 
1 

8 
11 
IG 
20 

25 
28 
33 
36 

38 

41 
45 
49 
54 
00 
64 
71 
76 
81 
89 
94 
99 


VI 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER 

XXIII. 

XXIV. 

XXV. 

XXVI. 

XXVII. 

XXVIII. 


After  the  Mazukka 

In  Bed      ...... 

The  Letter     ..... 

What  Awaited  Us  in  the  Country 
Grief         ...... 

The  Last  Sad  Memories       . 


BOYHOOD 


I. 

II. 

IIL 

IV. 

V. 

VL 

VII. 

VIII. 

IX. 

X. 

XL 

XII. 

XIII. 

XIV. 

XV. 

XVI. 

XVII. 

XVIII. 

XIX. 

XX. 

XXI. 

XXII. 

XXIIL 

XXIV. 

XXV. 

XXVI. 

XXVII. 


At  Easy  Stages 

The  Storm 

A  New  View     . 

At  Moscow 

My  Elder   Brother 

M.\SHA 

Shot  .... 
The  History  of  Karl 
Continuation  . 
Continuation  . 
One    .... 


The  Small  Key 

The  Traitress 

The  Eclipse 

Dreams 

After  Grinding  Comes 

Hatred 

The  Maids'  Chamber 

Boyhood    . 

VoidDYA     . 

Katenka  and  Lyubochka 
Papa  .... 


Grandmother  . 

I  .         .         .         . 

Volodya's  Friends  . 

Reflections 

The  Beginning  of  the  Friendship 


VANOVICH 


Flour 


CONTENTS 


Vll 


NATIONS 


OCCUPA 


YOUTH 

CHAPTER 

I.  What  I  Rkgard  as  thp:  Beginning  of  my 

Youth   ..... 

II.  Spring       ..... 

III.  Drkams     ..... 

IV.  Our  Family  Circle 
V.  The  Rules       .... 

VI.  The  Confession 

VII,  Drive  to  the  Monastery     . 

VIII.  My  Second  Confession 

IX.  How  I  Prepared  for  the  Exam 

X.  My  History  Examination     . 

XI.  My  Mathematics  Examination 

XII.  The  Latin  Examination 

XIII.  I  Am  a  Grown-up  Man 

XIV.  What    Dubkov's    and    Volodya's 

tions  Were 

XV.  I  Am  Congratulated     . 

XVI.  The  Quarrei 

XVII.  I  Am  Getting  Ready  to  Make  C 

XVIII.  The  Valakhins 

XIX.  The  Kornakovs 

XX.  The  Ivins         ... 

XXI.  Prince  Ivan  Ivanovicii 

XXII.  A  Confidential  Talk  ^MTH  My 

XXIII.  The  Nekhlyudovs  . 

XXIV.  Love 

XXV.  I  Am  Becoming  Acquainted 

XXVI.  I   Snow   Myself    from    My    Mos 
tageous  Side 

XXVII.  Dmitri 

XXVIII.  In  the  Country     . 

XXIX.  Our  Relations  with  the  Girls 

XXX.  My  Occupations     . 

XXXI.  Comme  II  Faux      . 


Friend 


T    Advan 


PAGE 

253 
25.5 
259 
263 

268 
271 
27:1 
277 
280 
283 
289 
293 
297 

803 
308 
312 
318 
822 
328 
332 
336 
339 
845 
851 
857 

302 
367 
373 

378 
383 
388 


vm 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

XXXIT.  Youth  ........  392 

XXXIII.  Nkigiibours 399 

XXXIV.  Fatiikr's  Marriage 404 

XXXV.  How  We  Received  the  News  .         .         .  408 

XXXVI.  The  University  ......  414 

XXXVII.  Affairs  of  the  Heart       ....  419 

XXXVIII.  Society 422 

XXXIX.  A  Carousal 425 

XL.  My  Friendship  with    the    Nekhlyudovs  430 

XLI.  My  Friendship  with  Xkkiilyudov  .         .  434 

XLII.  Our  Stepmother          .....  439 

XLIII.  New  Companions 445 

XLIV.  ZuKHiN  and  Semf.no V          ....  452 

XLV.  I  Flunked     .......  455 

The   Incursion:    Story  of  a  Volunteek     .         .         .  459 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 


PAGE 

Port.    Tolstoy.     Etch Frontispiece 

Interior  of  a  Peasant's  Home 145 

Kremlin  at  IMoscow  in  1823 414 


Cossack  Troops  quartered  on  a  village      .        .        .     100 
Interior  of  the  Redan  after  the  final  assault       .     471 


Vol.  1. 


CHILDHOOD 

A  Novel 
1852 


CHILDHOOD 


KAEL   lYAISOVICH,   OUR   TEACHER 

On  the  12th  of  August,  18-,  exactly  two  days  after 
my  birthday,  wheu  I  was  teu  years  old  and  received  such 
wonderful  presents,  Karl  Ivanovich  woke  me  at  seven 
o'clock  in  the  morning  by  striking  right  over  my  head  at 
a  fly  with  a  flap  which  was  made  of  wrapping-paper 
attached  to  a  stick.  He  did  that  so  awkwardly  that  he 
set  in  motion  the  small  picture  of  my  guardian  angel 
which  was  hanging  on  the  oak  headpiece  of  my  bed,  and 
made  the  dead  fly  fall  straight  upon  my  head.  I  stuck 
my  nose  out  of  my  coverlet,  stopped  the  swinging  picture 
with  my  hand,  threw  the  killed  fly  upon  the  ground,  and 
with  angry,  though  sleepy,  eyes  measured  Karl  Ivanovich. 
But  he,  dressed  in  a  many-coloured  wadded  dressing-gown, 
which  was  girded  by  a  belt  of  the  same  material,  in  a  red 
hand-knit  skull-cap  with  a  tassel,  and  in  soft  goatskin 
boots,  continued  to  make  the  round  of  the  walls,  and  to 
aim  and  flap  at  flies. 

"  I'll  admit  I  am  a  little  fellow^"  thought  I,  "  but  why 
does  he  worry  me  ?  Why  does  he  not  kill  flies  over 
Volodya's  bed  ?  There  are  lots  of  them  there !  No, 
Volodya  is  older  than  I,  and  I  am  the  youngest  of  all ; 

1 


2  CHILDHOOD 

that's  why  he  is  tormenting  me.  All  he  is  thinking 
about,"  whispered  I,  "  is  how  to  cause  me  annoyance. 
He  knows  quite  well  that  he  has  waked  and  frightened 
me,  but  he  acts  as  though  he  did  not  notice  it.  He  is  a 
contemptible  fellow!  And  his  dressing-gown,  and  cap, 
and  tassel,  —  they  are  all  contemptible  ! " 

While  I  thus  expressed  in  thought  my  disgust  with 
Karl  Ivanovich,  he  walked  up  to  his  bed,  took  a  look  at 
the  watch  which  was  hanging  above  it  in  a  hand-made 
shoe  of  glass  beads,  hung  the  flap  on  a  nail,  and,  evidently 
in  the  pleasantest  mood,  turned  to  us. 

"Aitf,  Kinder,  auf !  's  ist  Zcit.  Die  Mutter  ist  sclion 
im  Sacd"  he  cried  out  in  his  good  German  voice,  then 
came  up  to  me,  seated  himself  at  my  feet,  and  took  his 
snuff-box  out  of  his  pocket.  I  pretended  I  was  asleep. 
Karl  Ivanovich  at  first  took  a  snuff,  wiped  his  nose, 
snapped  his  fingers,  and  then  turned  his  attention  to  me. 
He  smiled  and  began  to  tickle  the  soles  of  my  feet. 
"  Nun,  nun,  Faulenzer  !  "  said  he. 

Though  I  was  very  much  afraid  of  tickling,  I  did  not 
jump  up  from  bed  and  did  not  answer  him,  but  only  hid 
my  head  farther  under  the  pillows,  kicked  my  feet  with 
all  my  might,  and  made  all  possible  efforts  to  keep  from 
laughing. 

"  What  a  good  man  he  is,  and  how  he  loves  us,  and 
how  could  I  have  thought  so  ill  of  him  ? " 

I  was  angry  at  myself  and  at  Karl  Ivanovich,  and  I 
wanted  to  laugh  and  cry  at  the  same  time ;  my  nerves 
were  shattered. 

"  Ach,  lassen  Sie,  Karl  Ivanovich  ! "  cried  I,  with  tears 
in  my  eyes,  and  stuck  my  head  out  of  my  pillows. 

Karl  Ivanovich  was  surprised,  left  my  soles  in  peace, 
and  with  a  disturbed  mien  began  to  ask  what  the  matter 
was  with  me,  and  w^hetlier  I  had  not  had  a  bad  dream. 
His  good  German  face  and  the  interest  which  he  evinced 
in  trying  to  ascertain  the  cause  of  my  tears  made  them 


KARL  IVAKOVICH,  OUR  TEACHER        6 

flow  more  copiously ;  I  felt  ashamed,  and  I  could  not 
understand  how  a  minute  ago  I  could  have  dishked  Karl 
Ivanovich,  and  how  I  could  have  found  his  gown,  his  cap, 
and  his  tassel  contemptible.  Now,  on  the  contrary,  all 
those  things  appeared  particularly  charming  to  me,  and 
even  the  tassel  seemed  to  be  an  evident  proof  of  his 
goodness. 

I  told  him  that  I  was  crying  because  I  had  had  a 
bad  dream,  that  I  dreamt  mamma  had  died  and  was 
being  buried.  I  had  made  up  all  that  myself,  because 
I  really  did  not  remember  what  it  was  I  had  dreamt 
about  that  night ;  but  when  Karl  Ivanovich,  touched  by 
my  story,  began  to  console  me,  it  seemed  to  me  that  I 
had  actually  had  such  a  terrible  dream,  and  my  tears 
began  to  flow,  this  time  from  an  entirely  different  cause. 

When  Karl  Ivanovich  left  me,  and  I  raised  myself  in 
bed  and  began  to  pull  my  stockings  on  my  tiny  legs,  my 
tears  flowed  less  abundantly,  but  the  gloomy  thoughts  of 
my  fictitious  dream  did  not  leave  me.  The  children's 
valet,  Nikolay,  entered  the  room.  He  was  a  small,  neat 
man,  always  serious,  accurate,  respectful,  and  a  great  friend 
of  Karl  Ivanovich.  He  was  carrying  our  garments  and 
shoes :  for  Volodya  a  pair  of  boots,  and  for  me  still  the 
unbearable  shoes  with  ribbons.  I  felt  ashamed  to  cry  in 
his  presence.  Besides,  the  morning  sun  shone  merrily 
through  the  windows,  and  Volodya,  who  was  mocking 
Marya  Ivanovna,  my  sister's  governess,  was  laughing  so 
merrily  and  loudly,  as  he  stood  at  the  wash-basin,  that 
even  solemn  Nikolay,  with  a  towel  over  his  shoulder,  and 
with  soap  in  one  of  his  hands  and  the  water-tank  in  the 
other,  smiled  and  said  : 

"  That  will  do,  Vladimir  Petrdvich !  Be  pleased  to 
wash  yourself !  " 

I  cheered  up  completely. 

"  Siyul  Sie  laid  fertig  ?  "  was  heard  the  voice  of  Karl 
Ivanovich  from  the  study-room. 


'*  CHILDHOOD 

His  voice  was  stem,  and  no  longer  had  that  expression 
of  kindness  which  had  touched  me  to  tears.  In  the  class- 
room Karl  Ivanovich  was  a  different  man  :  he  was  an 
instructor.  I  dressed  in  a  hurry,  washed  myself,  and, 
with  the  hair-brush  in  my  hand,  trying  to  smooth  down 
my  wet  hair,  made  my  appearance  in  response  to  his 
call. 

Karl  Ivanovich  had  his  spectacles  on  his  nose  and  a 
book  iu  his  hands,  and  was  seated  in  his  usual  place, 
between  the  door  and  the  window.  At  the  left  of  the 
door  were  two  small  shelves :  one  was  ours,  the  children's, 
the  other  was  his,  Karl  Ivanovich's.  On  our  shelf  were 
all  kinds  of  books,  school-books  and  others:  some  of 
these  were  placed  upright,  others  lay  flat.  Only  two 
large  volumes  of  the  "  Histoire  des  Voyages,"  in  red  bind- 
ings, were  properly  placed  against  the  wall.  Then  fol- 
lowed long,  fat,  large,  and  small  books,  —  bindings  without 
books,  and  books  without  bindings.  We  used  to  stick 
and  jam  into  it  all  kinds  of  tilings,  when,  just  before 
recess,  we  were  ordered  to  fix  up  the  "  library,"  as  Karl 
Ivanovich  loudly  called  that  shelf. 

The  collection  of  books  on  his  shelf  was  not  so  large  as 
ours,  but  it  was  much  more  varied.  I  remember  three  of 
them:  a  German  pamphlet  about  the  manuring  of  gar- 
dens for  cabbage,  —  without  a  binding:  one  volume  of  a 
history  of  the  Seven  Years'  War,  —  in  parchment  which 
was  burned  at  one  end;  and  a  complete  course  of  hydro- 
statics. Karl  Ivanovich  used  to  pass  the  greater  part  of 
his  time  reading,  and  he  had  even  impaired  his  eyesight  in 
that  way;  but  he  never  read  anything  else  but  these 
books  and  the  Nortliern  Bee} 

Among  the  objects  which  lay  on  Karl  Ivanovich's  shelf, 

there  was  one  which  more  than  any  other  reminds  me 

of  him.     It  was  a  circle  of  cardboard,  stuck  in  a  wooden 

support,  iu  which  it   moved,  by  means  of  pegs.     Upon 

1 A  periodical. 


KARL  IVANOVICn,  OUR  TEACHER        O 

that  circle  was  pasted  a  picture  which  represented  a  car- 
icature of  a  lady  and  a  hair-dresser.  Karl  Ivanovich  was 
a  good  hand  at  pasting,  and  he  had  himself  invented  and 
made  that  circle  in  order  to  shield  his  weak  eyes  against 
the  bright  light. 

Vividly  I  see  before  me  the  lank  figure  in  the  cotton 
dressing-gown  and  red  cap,  underneath  which  peep  out 
scanty  gray  hairs.  He  is  seated  at  the  little  table,  upon 
which  is  placed  the  circle  with  the  hair-dresser,  that 
throws  a  shadow  upon  his  face.  In  one  hand  he  holds  a 
book ;  his  other  is  resting  on  the  arm  of  the  chair.  Near 
him  lies  the  watch  with  a  chasseur  painted  on  its 
face,  a  checkered  handkerchief,  a  round  black  snuff-box, 
a  green  case  for  his  glasses,  and  snuffers  on  a  holder. 
All  these  things  are  lying  so  regularly  and  properly  in 
their  places,  that  by  the  order  itself  it  is  possible  to 
conclude  that  Karl  Ivanovich 's  conscience  is  pure  and  his 
soul  at  rest. 

When  we  had  run  ourselves  tired  in  the  hall  down-stairs, 
we  used  to  steal  up-stairs  on  tiptoes,  into  the  study,  and 
there  we  would  see  Karl  Ivanovich  sitting  all  alone  in 
his  armchair  and  with  a  calmly  sublime  expression  read- 
ing one  of  his  favourite  books.  Tliere  were  moments 
when  I  caught  him  not  reading :  his  spectacles  were  dropped 
lower  on  his  large  aquiline  nose,  his  blue,  half-closed  eyes 
looked  with  a  certain  peculiar  expression,  and  his  lips 
smiled  sadly.  It  was  quiet  in  the  room ;  one  could  hear 
only  the  even  breathing  and  the  ticking  of  the  watch  with 
the  chasseur. 

At  times  he  did  not  notice  me,  while  I  stood  at  the 
door  and  thought :  "  Poor,  poor  old  man  !  There  are  many 
of  us :  we  are  playing,  we  are  happy ;  but  he  is  all  alone, 
and  nobody  comforts  him.  He  is  telling  the  truth  when 
he  says  that  he  is  an  orphan.  The  history  of  his  life  is 
terrible,  indeed !  I  remember  his  telling  it  to  Nikolay. 
It  is  terrible  to  be  in  his  place  ! "     And  I  would  feel  so 


6  CHILDHOOD 

sorry  for  him,  that  I  would  go  up  to  him,  take  his  hand, 
and  say  :  "  Lieher  Karl  Ivanovich  !  "  He  hked  my  speak- 
ing thus  to  him  :  he  would  pat  me,  and  it  was  evident 
that  he  was  touched. 

Upon  the  other  wall  hung  maps,  nearly  all  of  them 
torn,  but  skilfully  pasted  up  by  the  hand  of  Karl  Ivano- 
vich. On  the  third  wall,  in  the  middle  of  which  was  a 
door  that  led  down-stairs,  were  hanging,  on  one  side,  two 
rulers :  one,  all  cut  up,  belonged  to  us,  the  other,  which 
was  new,  was  his,  and  was  used  more  for  encouragement 
than  for  ruling ;  on  the  other  side  was  a  blackboard,  on 
which  our  great  transgressions  were  marked  with  circles, 
and  our  small  ones  with  crosses.  At  the  left  of  the  board 
was  the  corner  where  we  were  made  to  kneel. 

How  well  I  remember  that  corner !  I  remember  the 
valve  in  the  stove,  the  ventilator  in  that  valve,  and  the 
noise  which  it  made  whenever  it  was  turned.  When  I 
had  stood  in  the  corner  quite  awhile,  until  my  knees  and 
back  were  aching,  I  thought :  "  Karl  Ivauo\ich  has  for- 
gotten about  me.  He,  no  doubt,  feels  rested,  sitting  in  a 
soft  chair,  and  reading  his  Hydrostatics,  but  how  about 
me  ? "  And  to  make  him  think  of  me,  I  would  softly 
open  and  close  the  valve,  or  scratch  off  some  stucco  from 
the  wall ;  but  if  suddenly  an  unusually  large  piece  fell 
upon  the  ground,  —  then,  indeed,  the  fright  it  gave  me 
was  worse  than  any  punishment.  I  looked  at  Karl 
Ivanovich,  —  but  he  sat  there  with  his  book  in  his  hand, 
as  if  he  had  not  heard  anything. 

In  the  middle  of  the  room  stood  a  table  which  was 
covered  with  a  torn  black  oilcloth,  underneath  which 
peeped  out  the  edges  that  had  been  all  cut  up  with  pen- 
knives. Around  the  table  were  a  few  unpainted  tabourets, 
which  had  assumed  a  gloss  from  long  usage.  The  last 
wall  was  occupied  by  three  windows.  From  these  the 
following  view  was  had :  right  below  the  windows  was 
the  road,  every  puddle,  every  pebble,  and  every  rut  of 


KARL  IVANOVICH,  OUR  TEACHER        / 

which  had  long  been  familiar  and  dear  to  me ;  beyond  the 
road  lay  an  avenue  of  lopped  linden-trees,  and  beyond 
that  a  wicker-fence  could  be  seen  in  places ;  on  the  other 
side  of  the  avenue  appeared  a  meadow,  on  one  side  of  which 
was  a  threshing-barn,  and  opposite  it  a  forest ;  the  hut  of 
the  watchman  was  visible  far  in  the  distance. 

Through  the  window  on  the  right  was  seen  a  part  of 
the  terrace  where  the  grown  people  used  to  sit  before 
dinner.  At  times,  while  Karl  Ivanovich  was  correcting 
the  dictation  sheet,  I  looked  in  that  direction,  and  I  saw 
my  mother's  black  head  and  somebody's  back,  and  I  dimly 
heard  some  conversation  and  laughter.  I  felt  angry  because 
I  could  not  be  there,  and  I  thought :  "  When  I  shall  be 
grown,  shall  I  stop  studying  and  eternally  reading  the 
Dialogues  ?  And  shall  I  not  be  sitting  with  those  I  love  ? " 
Anger  passed  into  sadness,  and  I  fell  to  musing,  God 
knows  why  or  over  what,  so  that  I  did  not  hear  Karl 
Ivanovich's  angry  words  over  my  mistakes. 

Karl  Ivanovich  took  off  his  dressing-gown,  put  on  his 
blue  uniform  with  elevations  and  gatherings  at  the 
shoulders,  fixed  his  cravat  before  the  mirror,  and  took  us 
down-stairs,  to  bid  mother  good  morning. 


II. 


MAMMA 


Mother  was  sitting  in  the  drawing-room  and  pour- 
ing out  tea.  With  one  hand  she  held  the  teapot,  with 
the  other  the  faucet  of  the  samovar,  from  whicfc  the  water 
ran  over  the  teapot  to  the  tray.  Though  she  was  look- 
ing fixedly  at  it,  she  did  not  notice  it,  nor  that  we  had 
entered. 

So  many  memories  of  the  past  rise  before  one,  trying 
to  resurrect  in  imagination  the  features  of  a  beloved  being, 
that  one  sees  them  dimly  through  these  recollections  as 
through  tears.  When  I  try  to  recall  my  mother  as  she 
was  at  that  time,  I  can  think  only  of  her  brown  eyes, 
which  always  expressed  the  same  kindness  and  love,  of 
a  birthmark  upon  her  neck,  a  little  below  the  place  where 
the  small  hairs  curled,  of  her  white  linen  collar,  of  her 
tender  dry  hand  which  had  so  often  fondled  me,  and 
which  I  had  so  often  kissed ;  her  general  expression 
escapes  me. 

To  the  left  of  the  sofa  stood  an  old  English  grand 
piano.  At  the  piano  was  seated  my  swarthy  sister  Lyil- 
bochka,  who  with  her  rosy  fingers  that  had  just  been 
washed  in  cold  water  was  playing  with  evident  expression 
dementi's  Etudes.  She  was  eleven  years  old.  She  wore 
a  short  gingham  dress  and  white,  lace-bordered  pantalets, 
and  she  could  encompass  octaves  only  by  arpeggio.  Near 
her,  and  half  turned  around,  sat  Marya  Ivanovna,  in  a 
cap  with  rose-coloured  ribbons,  and  wearing  a  blue  jersey. 


MAMMA  y 

Her  angry  red  face  assumed  a  sterner  expression  the 
moment  Karl  Ivauovich  entered.  She  looked  angrily  at 
him  and,  without  answering  his  greeting,  continued  to 
stamp  her  foot  and  to  count :  tin,  deux,  trois,  un,  deux, 
trois,  louder  and  more  commandingly  than  before. 

Karl  Ivanovich  paid  no  attention  whatsoever  to  it,  and, 
as  was  his  custom,  with  German  politeness  went  straight 
up  to  take  my  mother's  hand.  She  awoke  from  her 
reverie,  shook  her  head,  as  if  wishing  to  dispel  her  gloomy 
thoughts  with  that  motion,  gave  her  hand  to  Karl  Ivano- 
vich, and  kissed  his  furrowed  temple,  while  he  was  kissing 
her  hand. 

"  Ich  danke,  lieher  Karl  Ivanovich  ! "  and  continuing 
to  speak  German,  she  asked  him  whether  the  children 
had  slept  well. 

Karl  Ivanovich  was  deaf  in  one  ear,  and  just  then  he 
could  hear  nothing  because  of  the  noise  at  the  piano.  He 
bent  lower  down  to  the  sofa,  leaned  with  one  arm  against 
the  table,  while  standing  on  one  foot,  and  with  a  smile, 
which  then  appeared  to  me  the  acme  of  refinement,  lifted 
his  cap  on  his  head  and  said : 

"  Excuse  me,  Natalya  Nikolaevna  ! " 

Not  to  catch  a  cold,  Karl  Ivanovich  never  took  off  his 
red  cap,  but  every  time  he  entered  the  sitting-room,  he 
asked  permission  to  keep  it  on. 

"  Put  it  on,  Karl  Ivanovich.  I  am  asking  you  whether 
the  children  have  slept  well,"  said  mamma,  quite  aloud, 
as  she  moved  up  to  him. 

But  he  again  had  not  heard  anything.  He  covered  his 
bald  head  with  his  red  cap,  and  smiled  even  more  sweetly. 

"  Stop  a  minute,  Mimi,"  said  mamma  to  Marya  Iva- 
novna,  smiling.     "One  can't  hear  a  thing." 

Whenever  mother  smiled,  her  face,  which  was  very 
pretty,  became  even  more  beautiful,  and  everything 
around  her  seemed  to  grow  happier.  If,  in  the  heavy 
moments  of  my  life,  I  had  been  able  to  see  that  smile. 


10  CHILDHOOD 

even  in  passing,  I  should  not  have  known  what  grief  is. 
It  seems  to  me  that  in  the  smile  alone  is  contained  that 
which  is  called  the  beauty  of  the  face :  if  the  smile  adds 
charm  to  the  face,  the  face  is  beautiful ;  if  it  does  not 
change  it,  it  is  common  ;  if  it  spoils  it,  it  is  homely. 

Having  greeted  me,  mamma  took  my  head  with  both 
her  hands,  and  threw  it  back,  then  looked  fixedly  at  me, 
and  said : 

"  You  have  been  crying  to-day  ? " 

I  did  not  answer.  She  kissed  my  eyes,  and  asked  in 
German : 

"  What  were  you  crying  about  ? " 

Whenever  she  spoke  to  us  in  a  friendly  manner,  she 
spoke  in  that  language,  which  she  had  mastered  perfectly. 

"  I  had  been  crying  in  my  dream,  mamma,"  said  I,  as  I 
recalled  the  fictitious  dream  with  all  its  details  and 
involuntarily  shuddered  at  the  thought. 

Karl  Ivanovich  confirmed  my  words,  but  kept  silent 
about  the  dream.  Having  said  something  about  the 
weather,  in  which  conversation  Mimi,  too,  took  part, 
mamma  placed  six  pieces  of  sugar  on  the  tray  for  some 
especially  honoured  servants,  then  arose  and  walked  up  to 
the  embroidery-frame  which  stood  near  the  w^indow. 

"  Well,  go  now  to  papa,  children,  and  tell  him  to  be 
sure  and  come  to  see  me  before  he  goes  to  the  threshing- 
fioor." 

The  music,  the  counting,  and  the  stern  glances  began 
anew,  and  we  went  to  papa.  After  passing  the  room 
which  from  grandfather's  time  had  preserved  the  name  of 
officiating-room,  we  entered  his  study. 


IIL 

PAPA 

He  was  standing  near  the  writing-table  and,  pointing 
to  some  envelopes,  papers,  and  heaps  of  money,  was 
speaking  excitedly  about  something  to  steward  Yakov 
Mikhaylovich,  who  was  standing  in  his  customary  place, 
between  the  door  and  the  barometer,  with  his  hands 
behind  his  back,  rapidly  moving  his  fingers  in  all  direc- 
tions. 

The  more  excitedly  father  spoke,  the  more  rapidly  his 
fingers  twitched,  and,  again,  when  father  stopped  speak- 
ing, his  fingers  ceased  moving ;  but  when  Yakov  himself 
began  to  speak  his  fingers  came  into  the  greatest  commo- 
tion and  desperately  jumped  on  all  sides.  It  seems  to 
me  one  could  have  guessed  Yakov's  secret  thoughts  by 
their  motion.  But  his  face  was  quiet,  and  expressed  the 
consciousness  of  his  dignity  and  at  the  same  time  of  his 
subserviency,  as  much  as  to  say :  "  I  am  right ;  however, 
as  you  may  wish  it ! " 

When  papa  saw  us,  he  only  said : 

"  Wait  a  moment." 

With  a  motion  of  his  head  he  pointed  to  the  door, 
which  he  wanted  some  one  of  us  to  close. 

"  Oh,  merciful  Lord !  What  is  the  matter  with  you 
to-day,  Yakov  ? "  continued  he  to  the  steward,  twitching 
his  shoulders,  which  was  a  habit  of  his.  "  This  envelope 
with  the  enclosed  eight  hundred  roubles  —  " 

Yakov  moved  up  the  abacus,  cast  800   upon  it,  and 

11 


12  CHILDHOOD 

fixed  his  eyes  upon  an  indefinite  point,  waiting  for  things 
to  follow. 

"  —  are  for  farm  expenses  during  my  absence.  You 
understand  ?  For  the  mill  you  are  to  get  one  thousand 
roubles  —  is  it  not  so  ?  You  will  get  back  deposits  from 
the  treasury,  eight  thousand  roubles ;  for  the  hay,  of 
which,  according  to  your  own  calculation,  we  ought  to 
sell  seven  thousand  puds,  —  let  me  say  at  forty-five 
kopeks,  —  you  will  receive  three  thousand  roubles  ;  con- 
sequently, how  much  money  will  you  have  in  all  ? 
Twelve  thousand,  —  am  I  not  right  ? " 

"  Just  so,  sir,"  said  Yakov. 

But  I  noticed  by  the  rapidity  with  which  his  fingers 
moved  that  he  was  about  to  retort  something.  Papa 
interrupted  him. 

"  Well,  from  these  moneys  you  will  send  ten  thousand 
to  the  Council  for  the  Petrovskoe  estate.  Now,  the  money 
which  is  in  the  office,"  continued  papa  (Yakov  had  dis- 
turbed the  former  12,000,  and  now  cast  21,000  on  his 
abacus),  "  you  will  bring  to  me,  and  you  will  write  it 
down  among  the  expenses  of  this  date."  (Yakov  mixed 
up  the  accounts  and  turned  over  the  abacus,  no  doubt 
wishing  to  say  by  this  that  the  21,000  would  be  equally 
lost.)  "  But  this  envelope  with  the  enclosed  money  you 
will  deliver  in  my  name  according  to  the  address." 

I  was  standing  near  the  table  and  looked  at  the  inscrip- 
tion.    It  ran  :  "  To  Karl  Ivanych  Mauer." 

Evidently  noticing  that  I  had  read  what  I  ought  not  to 
know,  papa  placed  his  hand  upon  my  shoulder,  and  with 
a  shght  motion  indicated  a  direction  away  from  the  table. 
I  did  not  understand  whether  that  was  a  favour  or  a 
reprimand,  but  in  any  case  kissed  his  large  venous  hand 
which  lay  upon  my  shoulder. 

"  At  your  service,  sir,"  said  Yakov.  "  And  what  is  your 
order  in  regard  to  the  Khabarovka  money?" 

Khd,barovka  was  mother's  estate, 


PAPA  13 

"  Leave  it  in  the  office,  and  never  use  it  without  my 
order." 

Yakov  was  silent  for  a  few  moments ;  then  suddenly 
his  fingers  began  to  move  with  increased  raxjidity.  and, 
changing  the  expression  of  submissive  stupidity  with 
which  he  listened  to  his  master's  commands,  into  one  of 
shrewd  cunning,  which  was  peculiar  to  him,  he  moved 
the  abacus  up  to  him,  and  began  to  speak. 

"Permit  me  to  report  to  you, Peter  Aleksandrovich,  that 
your  will  shall  be  done,  but  it  is  impossible  to  pay  into 
the  Council  at  the  proper  time.  You  have  deigned  to 
say,"  continued  he,  speaking  more  slowly,  "  that  money  is 
due  from  the  deposits,  the  mill,  and  the  hay."  (As  he 
mentioned  these  items,  he  cast  them  on  the  abacus.) 
"  But  I  am  afraid  we  may  have  made  a  mistake  in  our 
calculations,"  he  added,  after  a  short  silence,  and  lookhig 
thoughtfully  at  papa. 

"  Why  ? " 

"  Permit  me  to  show  you :  as  to  the  mill,  the  miller 
has  come  to  see  me  twice  to  ask  for  a  delay ;  he  swore  by 
Christ  that  he  had  no  money,  and  he  is  here  even  now ; 
perhaps  you  would  be  pleased  to  speak  to  him  yourself  ? " 

"  What  does  he  say  ? "  asked  papa,  making  a  sign 
with  his  head  that  he  did  not  wish  to  speak  with  the 
miller. 

"  The  same  old  thing !  He  says  that  there  has  been 
no  grinding  at  all,  that  all  the  money  he  had  he  put  into 
a  dam.  What  advantage  would  there  be  for  us,  sir,  to 
push  him  for  it  ?  As  to  the  deposits,  which  you  mentioned, 
it  seems  to  me  I  already  have  reported  that  our  money 
is  stuck  fast  there,  and  that  it  will  not  be  so  easy  to  get 
it  soon.  I  only  lately  sent  to  town  a  wagon  of  flour  to 
Ivan  Afanasich,  and  with  it  a  note  in  regard  to  this 
matter :  he  answered  that  it  would  give  him  pleasure  to 
do  something  for  Peter  Aleksandrych,  but  that  the  affair 
was  not  in  his  hands,  and  that,  according  to  appearances, 


14  CHILDHOOD 

the  receipt  would  not  be  delivered  for  two  months  yet. 
In  regard  to  the  hay  you  have  deigned  to  remark,  suppose 
even  we  shall  get  three  thousand  rouliles  —  " 

He  cast  3,000  on  the  abacus  and  kept  silent  for  about 
a  minute,  looking  now  at  the  abacus,  now  into  father's 
eyes,  as  much  as  to  say : 

"  You  see  yourself  how  httle  that  is !  And  the  hay, 
again,  will  have  to  be  sold  first;  if  we  were  to  sell  it 
now,  you  can  see  for  yourself  —  " 

He  evidently  had  still  a  great  supply  of  proofs ;  it  was, 
no  doubt,  for  this  reason  that  papa  interrupted  him. 

"I  sha'n't  change  my  order,"  said  he;  "but  if  there 
will  really  be  a  delay  in  the  receipt  of  the  money,  then 
we  can't  help  ourselves,  and  you  will  take  as  much  money 
of  the  Khabarovka  estate  as  will  be  necessary." 

"  Your  servant,  sir ! " 

By  Yakov's  expression  of  face  and  by  his  fingers  one 
could  tell  that  this  latter  order  afforded  him  a  great 
pleasure. 

Yakov  was  a  serf,  but  a  very  zealous  and  devoted  man. 
Like  all  good  stewards,  he  was  extremely  close-fisted  for 
his  master,  and  had  the  strangest  conceptions  about  his 
master's  advantages.  He  eternally  schemed  for  the 
increase  of  his  master's  property  at  the  expense  of  that 
of  his  mistress,  and  tried  to  prove  that  it  was  necessary 
to  use  all  the  income  from  her  estates  for  the  Petr6vskoe 
village,  where  we  were  living.  He  was  triumphant  at 
this  moment,  because  he  had  been  completely  successful. 

Having  bid  us  good  morning,  papa  told  us  that  we  had 
been  long  enough  frittering  our  time  away  in  the  village, 
that  we  were  no  longer  babies,  and  that  it  was  time  for 
us  to  begin  studying  in  earnest. 

"  I  think  you  know  already  that  I  am  this  very  evening 
going  to  Moscow,  and  that  I  shall  take  you  with  me," 
said  he.  "You  will  be  living  vnth  grandmother,  and 
mamma  will  stay  here  with  the  girls.      And  remember 


PAPA  15 

this :  her  only  consolatiou  will  be  to  hear  that  you  are 
studying  well  and  that  people  are  satisfied  with  you." 

Although  from  the  preparations  which  had  been  going 
on  for  several  days  we  expected  something  unusual,  yet 
this  news  gave  us  a  terrible  shock.  Volodya  blushed  and 
with  a  trembhng  voice  gave  him  mother's  message. 

"  So  this  is  what  my  dream  foreboded ! "  thought  I. 
"  God  grant  only  that  nothing  worse  may  happen." 

I  was  very  sorry  for  mother;  at  the  same  time  the 
thought  that  we  were  now  grown  gave  me  pleasure. 

"  If  we  are  to  travel  to-day,  there  will  be  no  classes : 
that  is  glorious ! "  thought  I.  "  However,  I  am  sorry  for 
Karl  Ivanovich.  He  will,  no  doubt,  be  dismissed,  or  else 
they  would  not  have  fixed  an  envelope  for  him.  It  would 
be  better,  after  all,  to  study  all  our  lives  and  not  to  go 
away,  not  to  leave  mother,  and  not  to  offend  poor  Karl 
Ivanovich.     He  is  unfortunate  enough  without  it ! " 

These  thoughts  flashed  through  my  head :  I  did  not 
budge  from  the  spot,  and  fixed  my  eyes  on  the  black 
ribbons  of  my  shoes. 

My  father  said  a  few  words  to  Karl  Ivanovich  about 
the  falling  of  the  barometer,  and  ordered  Yakov  not  to 
feed  the  dogs,  so  that  before  his  leave-taking  he  might 
go  out  in  the  afternoon  and  listen  to  the  baying  of  the 
young  hounds.  Contrary  to  my  expectation  he  sent  us 
back  to  study,  consoling  us,  however,  with  a  promise  to 
take  us  out  on  the  hunt. 

On  my  way  up-stairs  I  ran  out  on  the  terrace.  At  the 
door  lay  father's  favourite  greyhound,  Milka,  l)linking  her 
eyes  in  the  sun. 

"  Dear  Milka,"  said  I,  patting  her  and  kissing  her 
mouth,  '•'  we  are  going  away  to-day.  Good-bye  !  We  shall 
never  see  each  other  again." 

I  was  agitated,  and  I  began  to  weep. 


IV. 

THE    LESSONS 

Karl  Ivanovich  was  not  at  all  in  humour.  That  was 
•evident  from  his  knit  brow,  from  the  manner  with  which 
he  threw  his  coat  into  the  drawer,  from  his  girding  him- 
self angrily,  and  from  liis  making  a  deep  mark  with  his 
thumb  in  the  book  of  Dialogues,  in  order  to  indicate  the 
place  to  which  we  were  to  memorize. 

Volodya  studied  pretty  well,  but  I  was  so  disconcerted 
that  I  could  do  absolutely  nothing.  I  looked  for  a  long 
time  senselessly  into  the  book  of  Dialogues,  but  I  could 
not  read  through  the  tears  which  had  gathered  in  my 
eyes  at  the  thought  of  the  impending  departure.  But 
when  the  time  came  to  recite  the  Dialogues  to  Karl  Ivano- 
vich, who  listened  to  me  with  half-closed  eyes  (that  was 
a  bad  sign),  —  particularly  when  I  reached  the  place 
where  one  says,  "  Wo  kommcn  Sie  her  ? "  and  the  other 
answers  :  "  Ich  koimiie  vom  Kafeehause,"  I  could  no  longer 
restrain  my  tears,  and  through  my  sobs  could  not  pro- 
nounce :  "  Hahen  Sie  die  Zcitmig  nieht  gelesen  ?  "  When  we 
reached  penmanship,  my  tears  that  fell  on  the  paper  made 
blotches  as  if  I  were  writing  on  wrapping-paper. 

Karl  Ivanovich  grew  angry,  put  me  on  my  knees, 
insisted  that  it  was  nothing  but  stubbornness  and  a  puppet- 
show  (that  was  his  favourite  expression),  threatened  me 
with  the  ruler,  and  demanded  that  I  should  ask  forgive- 
ness, though  I  could  not  pronounce  a  word  through  my 
tears.     In  the  end,  he  evidently  felt  that  he  was  unjust 

16 


THE    LESSONS  17 

and  went  away  into  Nikolay's  room,  slamming  the  door 
after  him. 

In  the  class-room  we  could  hear  the  conversation  in 
the  valet's  room. 

"  Have  you  heard,  Nikolay,  that  the  children  are  going 
to  Moscow  ? "  said  Karl  Ivauovich,  as  he  entered  the 
room. 

"  Indeed,  I  have." 

Nikolay,  it  seems,  was  on  the  point  of  rising,  because 
Karl  Ivanovich  said :  "  Keep  your  seat,  Nikolay ! "  and 
immediately  after  closed  the  door.  I  left  my  corner 
and  went  to  the  door  to  listen. 

"  No  matter  how  much  good  you  may  do  to  people,  no 
matter  how  attached  you  may  be,  you  evidently  cannot 
expect  any  gratitude,  Nikolay  ? "  said  Karl  Ivauovich, 
with  feeling. 

Nikolay,  who  was  sitting  at  the  window,  cobbling  away 
at  a  boot,  nodded  his  head  in  affirmation. 

"  I  have  been  living  in  this  house  these  fifteen  years, 
and  I  can  say  before  God,  Nikolay,"  continued  Karl 
Ivanovich,  raising  his  eyes  and  his  snuff-box  toward  the 
ceihug,  "  that  I  have  loved  them  and  have  worked  with 
them  more  than  if  they  were  my  own  children.  You 
remember,  Nikolay,  when  Volodenka  had  the  fever,  how 
I  sat  for  nine  days  by  his  bed,  without  closing  my  eyes. 
Yes !  when  I  was  good,  dear  Karl  Ivanovich,  I  was  needed, 
but  now,"  added  he,  smiling  ironically,  "  now  the  children 
have  groion,  and  they  must  stud//  in  earnest.  As  if  they 
were  not  studying  here,  Nikolay  !  " 

"I  should  say  they  were,  it  seems!"  said  Nikolay, 
putting  down  the  awl,  and  pulling  through  the  waxed 
thread  with  both  his  hands. 

"  Yes,  I  am  superfluous  now,  so  I  am  sent  away ;  but 
where  are  the  promises  ?  where  is  the  gratitude  ?  I 
respect  and  love  Natalya  NikoMevna,  Nikolay,"  said  he, 
putting  his  hand  on  his  breast,  "  but  what  is  she  ?      Her 


18  CHILDHOOD 

will  has  as  much  power  in  this  house  as  this ! "  saying 
which,  he  with  an  expressive  mien  threw  upon  the  floor 
a  chip  of  leather.  "  I  know  whose  tricks  they  are,  and 
why  I  am  superfluous  now ;  it  is  because  I  do  not  flatter 
and  approve  everything,  as  other  people  do.  I  am  in  the 
habit  of  speaking  the  truth  at  all  times  and  to  everybody," 
said  he,  proudly.  "  God  be  with  them  !  They  will  not 
grow  rich  by  not  having  me  here,  and  I,  God  is  merciful, 
will  find  a  piece  of  bread  somewhere.  Am  I  right, 
Nikolay  ? " 

Nikolay  raised  his  head  and  looked  at  Karl  Ivanovich, 
as  if  he  wanted  to  assure  himself  that  he  would  really  be 
able  to  find  a  piece  of  bread,  but  he  did  not  say  anything. 

Karl  Ivanovich  spoke  much  and  long  in  that  strain ; 
he  told  of  how  his  services  had  been  much  better  appreciated 
at  some  general's,  where  he  used  to  live  (that  pained  me 
very  much),  he  told  of  Saxony,  of  his  parents,  of  his 
friend,  tailor  Schonheit,  and  so  forth. 

I  sympathized  with  his  sorrow,  and  I  felt  pained  be- 
cause my  father  and  Karl  Ivanovich,  whom  I  respected 
about  equally,  did  not  understand  each  other ;  I  again 
betook  myself  to  my  corner,  sat  down  on  my  heels,  and 
began  to  consider  how  to  restore  the  right  understanding 
between  them. 

Wlien  Karl  Ivanovicli  returned  to  the  class-room,  he 
ordered  me  to  get  up,  and  to  prepare  the  copy-book  for 
dictation.  When  everything  was  ready,  he  majestically 
fell  back  into  his  chair,  and  in  a  voice  which  seemed  to 
issue  from  some  depth  began  to  dictate  as  follows :  "  '  Von 
al-len  LeUlen-schaf-ten  die  grati-sam-ste  ist '  —  Jiahen  Sie 
geschrieben  ? "  Here  he  stopped,  slowly  snuffed  some 
tobacco,  and  continued  with  renewed  strength  :  " '  Die 
grausamste  ist,  die  Un-dank-harheit'  —  ein  grosses  U." 
Having  finished  the  last  word,  and  in  expectation  of 
something  to  follow,  I  looked  at  him. 

"  Punctum, "  said  he,  with  a  barely  perceptible  smile. 


THE    LESSONS  19 

and  made  a  sign  that  we  should  hand  him  our  copy- 
books. 

He  read  that  motto  several  times,  with  various  intona- 
tions and  with  an  expression  of  the  greatest  satisfaction. 
The  motto  expressed  his  innermost  thought.  Then  he 
gave  us  a  lesson  from  history,  and  seated  himself  at  the 
window.  His  face  was  not  as  stern  as  before ;  it  expressed 
the  satisfaction  of  a  man  who  had  in  a  fitting  manner 
avenged  the  insult  which  had  been  ofiered  him. 

It  was  fifteen  minutes  to  one,  but  Karl  Ivanovich  did 
not  even  think  of  dismissing  us ;  he  continued  giving  us 
new  lessons.  Ennui  and  appetite  grew  in  the  same  pro- 
portion. With  the  greatest  impatience  I  followed  all  the 
tokens  which  indicated  the  nearness  of  the  dinner.  There 
was  the  peasant  woman  going  with  a  mop  to  wash  the 
dishes ;  there  the  rattle  of  the  plates  was  heard  in  the 
butler's  room ;  the  table  was  drawn  out  and  chairs  were 
placed ;  and  there  Mimi  was  coming  from  the  garden  with 
Lyiibochka  and  Kateuka  (Katenka  was  the  twelve-year- 
old  daughter  of  Mimi),  but  Foka  was  not  yet  to  be  seen, 
servant  Foka,  who  always  came  and  announced  that  din- 
ner was  served.  Only  then  would  we  be  allowed  to  throw 
aside  our  books  and  run  down,  without  paying  any  heed 
to  Karl  Ivanovich. 

Steps  were  heard  on  the  staircase,  but  that  was  not 
Foka.  I  had  studied  his  walk,  and  always  could  recog- 
nize the  creak  of  his  boots.  The  door  opened,  and  an 
entirely  unfamihar  figure  made  its  appearance. 


V. 

THE    SAINTLY    FOOL 

Into  the  room  entered  a  man  of  about  fifty  years  of 
age,  with  a  pale,  poclv-marlced,  oval  face,  long  gray  hair, 
and  a  scanty  reddish  beard.  He  was  so  tall  that,  in  order 
to  enter,  he  had  to  bend  not  only  his  head,  but  his  whole 
body.  He  was  dressed  in  something  torn  that  resembled 
a  caftan  and  a  cassock ;  in  his  hand  he  held  a  huge  staff. 
As  he  entered  the  room,  he  with  all  his  might  struck  the 
floor  with  it,  and,  furrowing  his  brow  and  opening  his 
mouth  beyond  measure,  laughed  out  in  a  most  terrible  and 
unnatural  manner.  One  of  his  eyes  was  maimed,  and  the 
white  pupil  of  that  eye  kept  on  leaping  about  and  giving 
to  his  otherwise  ugly  face  a  more  disgusting  expression. 

"Aha,  caught!"  he  cried  out,  running  up  to  Volodya 
with  mincing  steps,  getting  hold  of  his  head,  and  begin- 
ning carefully  to  examine  his  crown.  Then  he  walked 
away  from  him  with  an  entirely  solemn  expression  on  his 
face,  stepped  to  the  table,  and  began  to  blow  under  the 
oilcloth  and  to  make  the  sign  of  the  cross  over  it. 

"  Oh,  a  pity  !  Oh,  painful !  Dear  ones  —  will  fly 
away,"  said  he  then,  in  a  voice  quivering  with  tears,  feel- 
singly  looking  at  Volodya,  and  beginning  with  his  sleeves 
to  wipe  off  the  tears  which  had  really  started  to  fall. 

His  voice  was  rough  and  hoarse,  his  motions  hasty  and 
uneven,  his  speech  senseless  and  incoherent  (he  never 
used  any  pronouns),  but  the  accents  were  so  touching,  and 
his  yellow,  maimed  face  at  times  assumed  such  an  expres- 

20 


THE    SAINTLY    FOOL  21 

sion  of  sincere  sorrow,  that,  hearing  him,  it  was  not  pos- 
sible to  abstain  from  a  certain  mingled  feeling  of  pity,  fear, 
and  sadness. 

That  was  the  saintly  fool  and  pilgrim,  Grisha. 

Whence  did  he  come  ?  Who  were  his  parents  ?  What 
had  incited  him  to  choose  the  pilgrim's  life  which  he  was 
leading  ?  Nobody  knew  that,  I  only  know  that  he  had 
been  known  as  a  saintly  fool  ever  since  his  fifteenth  year, 
that  he  walked  barefoot  in  summer  and  winter,  that  he 
visited  monasteries,  presented  images  to  those  he  took  a 
fancy  to,  and  spoke  mysterious  words  which  some  regarded 
as  prophecies,  that  no  one  had  ever  known  him  otherwise, 
that  he  at  times  called  on  grandmother,  and  that  some 
said  that  he  was  the  unfortunate  son  of  rich  parents,  but 
a  pure  soul,  while  others  maintained  that  he  was  simply 
a  peasant  and  a  lazy  man. 

At  last  long-wished-for  and  punctual  Foka  appeared, 
and  we  went  down-stairs.  Grisha,  sobbing  and  continuing 
to  utter  incoherent  words,  went  down  after  us,  and  struck 
the  steps  with  his  staff.  Papa  and  mamma  were  walking 
hand  in  hand  in  the  living-room,  and  discussing  something. 
Mary  a  Ivanovna  sat  stittiy  in  an  armchair,  w^iich  sym- 
metrically adjoined  the  sofa  at  right  angles,  and  in  a  stern, 
though  reserved  voice,  gave  instructions  to  the  girls,  who 
were  sitting  near  her. 

The  moment  Karl  Ivanovich  entered  the  room,  she 
glanced  at  him,  immediately  turned  aw^ay,  and  her  face 
assumed  an  expression  which  may  be  rendered  by,  "  I  do 
not  notice  you,  Karl  Ivanovich."  We  could  read  in  the 
eyes  of  the  girls  that  they  were  anxious  to  transmit  to  us 
some  very  important  information,  but  it  would  have  been 
a  transgression  of  Mimi's  rules  to  jump  up  from  their  seats 
and  come  to  us.  We  had  first  to  walk  up  to  her,  to  say 
"  Bonjour,  Mimi ! "  to  scuff',  and  then  only  we  were  per- 
mitted to  enter  into  a  conversation. 

What  an  intolerable  person  that  Mimi  was !     In  her 


22  CHILDHOOD 

presence  it  was  not  possible  to  speak  about  anything ;  she 
found  everything  improper.  Besides,  she  continually 
nagged  us,  "  Parhz  done  francais"  every  time  we,  as  if 
to  spite  her,  wanted  to  chat  in  Russian ;  or,  at  dinner,  we 
would  just  get  the  taste  of  some  dish  and  would  not  want 
to  be  interrupted  by  any  one,  when  she  would  burst  in 
with  "  Mangez  done  avec  du  pain,"  or  "  Comment-ce  que 
vous  tenez  votre  fourcliette  ?  "  "  What  business  has  she 
with  us  ? "  we  would  think.  "  Let  her  teach  the  girls  ;  we 
have  Karl  Ivanovich  for  that."  I  absolutely  shared  his 
hatred  of  other  people. 

"  Ask  mamma  to  take  us  out  to  the  hunt,"  said  Katenka, 
in  a  whisper,  stopping  me  by  my  blouse,  when  the  grown 
people  had  entered  the  dining-room. 

"  All  right,  we  shall  try." 

Grisha  dined  in  the  dining-room,  but  at  a  separate  table. 
He  did  not  raise  his  eyes  from  his  plate,  but  now  and  then 
sobbed,  made  terrible  grimaces,  and  kept  on  saying,  as  if 
to  himself,  "  A  pity  !  flown  away  —  the  dove  has  flown  to 
heaven  —  Oh,  there  is  a  stone  on  the  grave  ! "  and  so  on. 

Mamma  had  been  out  of  humour  since  morning :  the 
presence,  words  and  acts  of  Grisha  perceptibly  intensified 
that  feeling  in  her. 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  almost  forgot  to  ask  you  for  one  thing,"  said 
she,  as  she  passed  a  plate  of  soup  to  father. 

"  What  is  it  ? " 

"  Please  have  your  awful  dogs  locked  up ;  they  almost 
bit  poor  Grisha  to  death  as  he  crossed  the  yard.  They 
might  attack  the  children  some  day." 

When  Grisha  heard  them  speaking  about  him,  he  turned 
toward  the  table,  began  to  show  the  torn  corners  of  his 
garment,  and  munching,  said  : 

"  Wanted  to  kill.  God  did  not  let.  A  sin  to  hunt  with 
dogs,  a  great  sin !  Strike  no  big  ones,  why  strike  ?  God 
will  forgive,  different  days." 

"  What   is    he   talking   about  ? "    asked    papa,   sharply 


THE    SAINTLY    FOOL  23 

and  severely  surveying  him.  "  I  do  not  understand  a 
word." 

"  But  I  understand,"  answered  mamma.  "  He  is  telling 
me  that  a  certain  hunter  had  on  purpose  urged  the  dogs 
against  him,  and  so  he  says.  '  Wanted  to  kill  but  God  did 
not  let,'  and  he  is  asking  you  not  to  punish  the  hunter." 

"  Oh,  that's  it  ?  "  said  papa.  "  But  how  does  he  know 
that  I  had  intended  to  punish  the  hunter  ?  You  know,  I 
am  not  at  all  fond  of  these  gentlemen,"  he  continued  in 
French,  "  but  this  one  is  especially  objectionable  to  me, 
and,  no  doubt  —  " 

"  Oh,  do  not  say  that,  my  dear,"  mamma  interrupted 
him,  as  if  frightened  at  something,  "  how  do  you  know  ?  " 

"  It  seems  to  me  1  have  had  occasion  to  become  ac- 
quainted with  his  tribe,  —  there  are  a  lot  of  them  coming 
to  see  you,  they  are  all  of  the  same  pattern.  Always  one 
and  the  same  story." 

It  was  evident  mamma  was  of  an  entirely  different 
opinion  in  regard  to  that  matter,  and  did  not  wish  to  dis- 
cuss it. 

"  Hand  me  that  pasty,  if  you  please,"  said  she.  "  Are 
they  good  to-day  ?  " 

"  No,  I  am  angry,"  continued  papa,  taking  the  pasty  in 
his  hand,  but  holding  it  at  such  a  distance  that  mamma 
could  not  reach  it,  "  no,  I  am  angry  whenever  I  see  intel- 
ligent and  cultivated  people  given  to  such  deception." 

And  he  struck  the  table  with  his  fork. 

"  I  have  asked  you  to  hand  me  the  pa.sty,"-  repeated  she, 
extending  her  hand. 

"They  are  doing  just  riglit,"  continued  papa,  moving 
his  hand  away,  "  when  they  put  them  in  jail.  The  only 
good  they  do  is  to  destroy  the  otherwise  weak  nerves  of 
certain  persons,"  added  he,  with  a  smile,  as  he  noticed  that 
this  conversation  did  not  please  mamma.  Then  he  handed 
her  the  pasty. 

"  I  shall  reply  only  this  much  to  you :  it  is  hard  to  be- 


24  CHILDHOOD 

lieve  that  a  man  who,  in  spite  of  his  sixty  years,  in  sum- 
mer and  winter  walks  barefoot,  and  uninterruptedly  wears 
imder  his  garments  chains  of  two  puds  in  weight,  and  who 
more  than  once  has  declined  the  proposition  to  live  in 
peace  and  contentment,  —  it  is  hard  to  believe  that  such 
a  man  should  be  doing  it  all  out  of  laziness.  As  to  the 
prophecies,"  she  added,  with  a  sigh  and  after  a  short  si- 
lence, "je  suis  payee  pour  y  croire,  it  seems  to  me,  I  have 
told  you  how  Kiryusha  foretold  papa's  death  to  him  to 
the  very  hour  and  day." 

"  Oh,  what  have  you  done  with  me  ? "  said  papa,  smil- 
ing and  placing  his  hand  to  his  mouth  on  the  side  where 
IVIimi  was  sitting.  (Whenever  he  did  so,  I  listened  with 
redoubled  attention,  expecting  something  funny.)  "Why 
did  you  remind  me  of  his  feet  ?  I  have  looked  at  them, 
and  now  I  sha'n't  eat  anything." 

The  dinner  was  coming  to  an  end.  Lyiibochka  and 
Katenka  kept  on  winking  to  us,  moving  restlessly  in  their 
chairs,  and,  in  general,  showing  great  anxiety.  This 
winking  meant,  "  Why  do  you  not  ask  to  take  us  to  the 
hunt  ? "  I  nudged  Volddya  with  my  elbow.  Volodya 
nudged  me,  and  finally  took  courage ;  at  first  speaking  in 
a  timid  voice,  then  more  firmly  and  loudly,  he  declared 
that,  as  we  were  to  depart  to-day,  we  should  like  to  have 
the  girls  go  with  us  to  the  hunt,  in  the  carriage.  After  a 
short  consultation  between  the  grown  people,  the  question 
was  decided  in  our  favour,  and,  what  was  even  more 
agreeable,  mamma  said  she  would  herself  go  with  us. 


VI. 

PREPARATION    FOR    THE    HUNT 

Yakov  was  called  during  the  dessert  and  orders  were 
given  in  regard  to  the  carriage,  the  dogs,  and  the  saddle- 
horses, —  all  this  with  the  minutest  details,  calling  each 
horse  by  its  name. 

As  Volodya's  horse  was  lame,  papa  ordered  a  hunter's 
horse  to  be  saddled  for  him.  This  word,  "  hunter's  horse," 
somehow  sounded  strange  in  mamma's  ears ;  it  seemed  to 
her  that  a  hunter's  horse  must  be  some  kind  of  a  ferocious 
animal,  which  must  by  all  means  run  away  with  and  kill 
Volodya.  In  spite  of  the  assurance  of  papa  and  of  Volo- 
dya,  who  said  with  remarkable  pluck  that  it  was  all 
nothing  and  that  he  was  very  fond  of  being  carried  rapidly 
by  a  horse,  poor  mamma  continued  saying  that  she  should 
be  worrying  during  the  whole  picnic. 

The  dinner  came  to  an  end.  The  grown  people  went 
into  the  cabinet  to  drink  coffee,  and  we  ran  into  the  gar- 
den, to  scuff  along  the  paths,  which  were  covered  with 
fallen  yellow  leaves,  and  to  have  a  chat.  We  began  to 
talk  about  Volodya's  riding  on  a  hunter's  horse,  about  its 
being  a  shame  that  Lyilbochka  did  not  run  so  fast  as 
Katenka,  about  its  being  interesting  to  get  a  look  at 
Grisha's  chains,  and  so  on,  but  not  a  word  was  said  of  our 
departure.  Our  conversation  was  interrupted  by  the  rattle 
of  the  approaching  carriage,  on  each  spring  of  which  a 
village  boy  was  seated.  Behind  the  carriage  followed  the 
hunters  with  their  dogs,  and  behind  the  hunters,  coachman 

25 


26  CHILDHOOD 

Ignat,  riding  on  the  horse  which  was  iutended  for  Volodya^ 
and  leading  uiy  old  nag  by  the  hand.  At  first  we  all 
rushed  to  the  fence,  from  which  all  these  interesting  things 
could  be  seen,  and  then  we  all  ran  up-stairs  shouting  and 
rattling,  to  get  dressed,  and  to  get  dressed  in  such  a  man- 
ner as  to  resemble  hunters  most.  One  of  the  chief  means 
for  obtaining  that  end  was  to  tuck  our  pantaloons  into  our 
boots.  We  betook  ourselves  to  that  work  without  any 
loss  of  time,  hastening  to  get  done  as  soon  as  possible  and 
to  run  out  on  the  veranda,  to  enjoy  the  sight  of  the  dogs 
and  of  the  horses,  and  to  have  a  chat  with  the  hunters. 

It  was  a  hot  day.  White,  fantastic  clouds  had  ap- 
peared in  the  horizon  early  in  the  morning ;  then  a  soft 
breeze  began  to  drive  them  nearer  and  nearer,  so  that  at 
times  they  shrouded  the  sun.  Though  the  clouds  moved 
about  and  grew  dark,  it  was,  evidently,  not  fated  that  they 
should  gather  into  a  storm-cloud  and  break  up  our  last 
enjoyment.  Toward  evening  they  again  began  to  scatter : 
they  grew  paler,  lengthened  out,  and  ran  down  to  the 
horizon  ;  others,  above  our  very  heads,  changed  into  white, 
transparent  scales ;  only  one  large,  black  cloud  hovered 
somewhere  in  the  east.  Karl  Ivanovich  always  knew 
whither  each  cloud  went.  He  announced  that  that  cloud 
would  go  to  Maslovka,  that  there  would  be  no  rain,  and 
that  the  weather  would  be  fine. 

Foka,  in  spite  of  his  declining  years,  very  nimbly  and 
rapidly  ran  down-stairs,  called  out,  "  Drive  up ! "  and, 
spreading  his  feet,  planted  himself  in  the  middle  of  the 
driveway,  between  the  place  where  tlie  coachman  was  to 
drive  up  the  carriage  and  the  threshold,  in  the  attitude  of 
a  man  who  need  not  be  reminded  of  his  duties.  The 
ladies  came  down,  and  after  a  short  discussion  where  each 
one  was  to  sit,  and  to  whom  each  one  was  to  hold  on 
(though,  it  seemed  to  me,  there  was  no  need  at  all  to  hold 
on),  they  seated  themselves,  opened  their  parasols,  and 
started.    As  the  carriage  moved  off,  mamma  pointed  to  the 


PKEPARATION    FOR    THE   HUNT  27 

"  hunter's  horse  "  and  asked  the  coachman  with  a  quiver- 
ing voice : 

"  Is  this  horvse  for  Vladimir  Petrovich  ? " 

When  the  coachman  answered  in  the  affirmative,  she 
waved  her  hand  and  turned  away.  I  was  in  great 
impatience.  I  mounted  my  pony,  looked  between  its 
ears,  and  made  all  kinds  of  evolutions  in  the  yard. 

"  Please  not  to  crush  the  dogs,"  said  a  hunter  to  me. 

"  Have  no  fear,  this  is  not  my  first  time,"  answered  I, 
proudly. 

Volodya  seated  himself  on  the  "hunter's  horse"  not 
without  a  certain  trembling,  in  spite  of  the  firmness  of 
his  character,  and,  patting  it,  asked  several  times : 

"  Is  it  a  gentle  horse  ? " 

He  looked  very  well  on  a  horse,  just  like  a  grown 
person.  His  tightly  stretched  thighs  lay  so  well  on  the 
saddle  that  I  was  envious,  because,  as  far  as  I  could 
judge  by  the  shadow,  I  did  not  make  such  a  fine 
appearance. 

Then  papa's  steps  were  heard  on  the  staircase.  The 
dog-keeper  collected  the  hounds  that  had  run  ahead. 
The  hunters  with  their  greyliounds  called  up  their  dogs, 
and  all  mounted  their  horses.  The  groom  led  a  horse 
up  to  the  veranda.  The  dogs  of  father's  leash,  that  had 
been  lying  before  in  various  artistic  positions  near  the 
horse,  now  rushed  up  to  him.  Milka  ran  out  after  him, 
in  a  beaded  collar,  tinkling  her  iron  clapper.  Whenever 
she  came  out,  she  greeted  the  dogs  of  the  kennel ;  with 
some  of  them  she  played,  others  she  scented  or  growled 
at,  and  on  others,  agaiu,  she  looked  for  fleas. 

Papa  mounted  his  horse,  and  we  started. 


VII. 

THE    HUNT 

TuRKA,  the  Chief  Hunter,  rode  ahead  of  us,  on  a  gray, 
hook-nosed  horse.  He  wore  a  shaggy  cap,  and  had 
a  luige  horn  on  his  shoulders  and  a  hunting-knife  in  his 
l)elt.  From  the  gloomy  and  ferocious  exterior  of  that 
man  one  would  have  concluded  that  he  was  going  to 
a  mortal  conflict  rather  than  to  a  hunt.  At  the  hind  feet 
of  his  horse  ran,  in  a  motley,  wavering  mass,  the  hounds, 
in  close  pack.  It  was  a  pity  to  see  what  fate  befell 
the  unfortunate  hound  that  took  it  into  his  head  to  drop 
behind.  In  order  to  do  so,  he  had  to  pull  his  companion 
with  all  his  might,  and  whenever  he  accomplished  it,  one 
of  the  dog-keepers  who  rode  behind  struck  him  with  his 
hunting-whip,  calling  out,  "  Back  to  the  pack  ! "  When 
he  rode  out  of  the  gate,  papa  ordered  the  hunters  and  us 
to  ride  on  the  road,  but  he  himself  turned  into  the  rye- 
field. 

The  harvesting  was  in  full  blast.  The  immeasurable, 
bright  yellow  field  was  closed  in  only  on  one  side  by 
a  tall,  bluish  forest  which  then  appeared  to  me  as  a  most 
distant  and  mysterious  place,  beyond  which  either  the 
world  came  to  an  end,  or  uninhabitable  countries  began. 
The  whole  field  was  filled  with  sheaves  and  men.  Here 
and  there,  in  the  high,  thick  rye,  could  be  seen,  in  a 
reaped  swatli,  the  bent  form  of  a  reaping  woman,  the 
swinging  of   the   ears  as   she   drew  them   through    her 

28 


THE    HUNT  29 

fingers ;  a  woman  in  the  shade,  bending  over  a  cradle ; 
and  scattered  stacks  in  the  stubble-field  that  was  over- 
grown with  bluebottles.  Elsewhere  peasants  in  nothing 
but  shirts,  standing  on  carts,  were  loading  the  sheaves, 
and  raising  the  dust  on  the  dry,  heated  field.  The  village 
elder,  in  boots  and  with  a  camel-hair  coat  over  his 
shoulders,  and  notched  sticks  in  his  hand,  having  noticed 
us  in  the  distance,  doffed  his  lambskin  cap,  wiped  off  his 
red-haired  head  and  beard  with  a  towel,  and  called  out 
loud  to  the  women.  The  sorrel  horse  on  which  papa  was 
riding  went  at  a  light,  playful  canter,  now  and  then  drop- 
ping his  head  to  his  breast,  drawing  out  his  reins,  and 
switching  off  with  his  heavy  tail  the  horseflies  and  gnats 
that  eagerly  clung  to  him. 

Two  greyhounds,  bending  their  tails  tensely  in  the 
shape  of  a  sickle  and  lifting  their  legs  high,  gracefully 
leaped  over  the  high  stubble,  behind  the  feet  of  the  horse  ; 
Milka  ran  in  front  and,  bending  her  head,  waited  to  be 
fed.  The  conversation  of  the  people,  the  tramp  of  the 
horses,  the  rattle  of  the  carts,  the  merry  piping  of 
the  quails,  the  buzzing  of  the  insects  that  hovered  in  the 
air  in  immovable  clouds,  the  odour  of  wormwood,  of  straw, 
and  of  horses'  sweat,  thousands  of  various  flowers  and  of 
shadows  which  the  burning  sun  spread  over  the  light- 
yellow  stubble-field,  over  the  blue  distance  of  the  forest, 
and  over  the  light,  lilac  clouds,  the  white  cobwebs  that 
were  borne  in  the  air  or  that  lodged  upon  the  stubbles,  — 
all  that  I  saw,  heard,  and  felt. 

When  we  reached  the  Viburnum  Forest,  we  found  the 
carriage  there  and,  above  all  expectation,  another  one- 
horse  vehicle,  in  the  midst  of  which  sat  the  butler. 
Through  the  hay  peeped  a  samovar,  a  pail  with  an  ice- 
cream freezer,  and  a  few  attractive  bundles  and  boxes. 
There  was  no  mistaking ;  we  were  to  have  tea,  ice-cream, 
and  fruit  in  the  open.  At  the  sight  of  the  vehicle  we 
expressed  a  noisy  delight,  because  it  was  regarded  as  a 


30  CHILDHOOD 

great  pleasure  to  drink  tea  iu  the  woods,  on  the  grass, 
and,  iu  general,  in  a  spot  where  no  one  ever  drank  tea. 

Tiirka  rode  up  to  the  grove,  stopped,  attentively  lis- 
tened to  pa-pa's  minute  instructions  as  to  where  to  line 
up  and  where  to  come  out  (however,  he  never  complied 
with  these  instructions,  but  did  as  he  thought  best), 
unloosed  the  dogs,  fixed  the  braces,  mounted  his  horse, 
and,  whistling,  disappeared  behind  the  young  birch-trees. 
The  loosed  hounds  first  expressed  their  pleasure  by 
wagging  their  tails,  then  shook  themselves,  straightened 
themselves,  and,  scenting  their  way  and  shaking  their 
tails,  ran  in  difl'erent  directions. 

"  Have  you  a  handkerchief  ?  "  asked  papa. 

I  took  it  out  of  my  pocket  and  showed  it  to  him. 

"  Well,  so,  take  this  gray  dog  on  your  handkerchief." 

"  Zhiran  ? "  said  I,  with  the  look  of  a  connoisseur. 

"  Yes !  and  run  along  the  road.  When  you  come  to 
a  clearing,  stop.  And  look  out ;  do  not  come  back  to  me 
without  a  hare ! " 

I  tied  my  handkerchief  around  Zhiran's  sliaggy  neck, 
and  ran  headlong  to  the  place  indicated.  Papa  laughed 
and  cried  after  me : 

"  Hurry  up,  hurry  up,  or  you  will  be  late  ! " 

Zhiran  kept  stopping  all  the  time,  pricking  his  ears, 
and  listening  to  the  calls  of  the  hunters.  I  did  not  have 
enough  strength  to  pull  him  off,  and  I  began  to  cry, 
"  Atii !  atii ! "  Then  Zhiran  tugged  so  hard  that  I  barely 
could  hold  him  back  and  fell  down  several  times  before 
I  could  reach  the  place.  Having  found  a  shady,  level 
spot  at  the  foot  of  a  tall  oak-tree,  I  lay  down  in  the 
grass,  placed  Zhiran  near  me,  and  began  to  wait.  My 
imagination,  as  generally  happens  under  such  circum- 
stances, far  outran  the  actual  facts ;  I  imagined  that  I  was 
baiting  the  third  hare,  whereas  it  was  only  the  first 
hound  that  was  heard  in  the  woods.  Turka's  voice  was 
heard  through  the  forest  ever  louder  and  more  animated ; 


THE    HUNT  31 

the  hound  whimpered,  aud  his  voice  was  heard  more  fre- 
quently ;  a  secoud,  bass  voice  joined  it,  then  a  third,  a 
fourth.  These  voices  now  grew  silent,  now  interrupted 
each  other.  The  sounds  grew  in  volume  and  became  less 
irregular,  and  finally  ran  together  into  one  hollow,  long- 
drawn  tone.  The  grove  was  rich  in  echoes,  and  the 
hounds  bayed  incessantly. 

When  I  heard  that,  I  remained  as  if  petrified  in  my 
place.  Fixing  my  eyes  on  the  clearing,  I  smiled  meaning- 
lessly  ;  the  perspiration  coursed  down  my  face  in  a  stream, 
and,  though  its  drops,  running  over  my  cheek,  tickled  me, 
I  did  not  wipe  them  off.  It  seemed  to  me  that  there 
could  be  nothing  more  decisive  than  this  moment.  The 
strain  of  this  intent  feeling  was  too  great  to  last  long. 
The  hounds  now  bayed  at  the  very  clearing,  now  kept 
on  receding  from  me.  There  was  no  hare.  I  began 
to  look  around  me.  The  same  mood  seemed  to  possess 
Zhiran  ;  at  first  he  tugged  to  get  away  and  whimpered  ; 
then  he  lay  down  near  me,  placed  his  snout  on  my  knees, 
and  grew  quiet. 

Near  the  bared  roots  of  that  oak-tree,  under  which  I 
was  sitting,  ants  were  swarming  over  the  gray,  dry  earth, 
between  the  dry  oak  leaves,  acorns,  dried  up,  lichen- 
covered  sticks,  yellowish  green  moss  and  the  thin  blades 
of  grass  that  peeped  through  here  and  there.  They  were 
hastening,  one  after  the  other,  along  the  foot-paths  which 
they  had  laid  out :  some  of  them  went  with  burdens, 
others  without  burdens.  I  took  a  stick  in  my  hand  and 
barred  their  way.  It  was  a  sight  to  see  how  some  of 
them,  despising  the  danger,  crawled  under  the  obstacle, 
while  others  crept  over  it ;  and  some,  especially  those  that 
were  with  burdens,  were  completely  lost,  and  did  not 
know  what  to  do :  they  stopped,  looked  for  a  way  round, 
or  turned  bacic,  or  climbing  over  the  stick  reached  my 
hand  and,  it  seemed,  were  trying  to  get  in  the  sleeve 
of  my  blouse.     I  was  distracted   from  these  interesting 


32  CHILDHOOD 

observations  by  a  butterfly  with  yellow  wings  that  entic- 
ingly circled  about  me.  The  moment  I  directed  my 
attention  to  it,  it  flew  away  some  two  steps  from  me, 
hovered  above  an  almost  withered  white  flower  of  wild 
clover,  and  alighted  upon  it.  I  do  not  know  whether  the 
sun  warmed  the  butterfly,  or  whether  it  was  drinking  the 
juice  of  that  flower,  —  in  any  case,  it  was  evidently 
happy  there.  It  now  and  then  flapped  its  wings  and 
pressed  close  to  the  flower;  finally  it  remained  perfectly 
quiet.  I  put  my  head  on  both  my  hands,  and  looked 
with  delight  at  the  butterfly. 

Suddenly  Zhiran  began  to  whine,  and  he  tugged  with 
such  strength-  that  I  almost  fell  down.  I  looked  around. 
At  the  edge  of  the  forest  leaped  a  hare,  one  of  his  ears 
lying  flat  and  the  other  standing  erect.  The  blood  rushed 
to  my  head  and  I,  forgetting  myself  for  the  moment,  cried 
something  in  an  unnatural  voice,  let  the  dog  go,  and 
started  to  run  myself.  No  sooner  had  I  done  that,  than 
I  began  to  feel  remorse ;  the  hare  squatted,  took  a  leap, 
and  I  never  saw  him  again. 

But  what  was  my  shame  when  Turka  appeared  from 
behind  a  bush,  in  the  wake  of  the  hounds  that  with  one 
voice  made  for  the  open !  He  had  seen  my  mistake 
(which  was  that  I  did  not  hold  out),  and,  looking  con- 
temptuously at  me,  he  said  only  :  "  Ah,  master  !  "  But 
you  should  have  heard  how  he  said  it !  I  should  have 
felt  better  if  he  had  hung  me  from  his  saddle  like  a  hare. 

I  stood  long  in  the  same  spot  in  great  despair,  did  not 
call  the  dog  back,  and  only  kept  on  repeating,  striking  my 
thighs : 

"  0  Lord,  what  have  I  done  ! " 

I  heard  the  hounds  coursing  away  ;  I  heard  them 
beating  at  the  other  end  of  the  gi-ove,  and  driving  the 
hare,  and  Tiirka  blowing  his  huge  horn  and  calhng  the 
dogs,  —  but  I  did  not  budge. 


VIII. 

GAMES 

The  hunt  was  ended.  A  rug  was  spread  in  the  shade 
of  young  birch-trees,  and  the  whole  company  seated 
themselves  on  it.  Butler  Gavrilo  had  stamped  down  the 
juicy  green  grass  around  him,  and  was  wiping  the  plates 
and  taking  out  of  a  box  plums  and  peaches  that  were 
wrapped  in  leaves.  The  sun  shone  through  the  green 
branches  of  the  birches,  and  cast  round,  quivering  bits  of 
light  on  the  patterns  of  the  rug,  on  my  feet,  and  even  on 
the  bald,  perspiring  head  of  Gavrilo.  A  light  breeze  that 
blew  through  the  leafage  of  the  trees,  and  over  my  hair 
and  perspiring  face,  greatly  refreshed  me. 

When  we  had  received  our  shares  of  ice-cream  and 
fruit,  there  was  nothing  else  to  do  on  the  rug,  and  we 
arose,  in  spite  of  tlie  burning,  oblique  rays  of  the  sun,  and 
went  away  to  play. 

"Well,  what  shall  it  be?"  said  Lyiibochka,  blinking 
from  the  sun  and  hopping  about  on  the  grass.  "  Let  us 
play  Robinson." 

"  No,  that  is  tiresome,"  said  Vol6dya,  lazily  throwing 
himself  on  the  grass  and  chewing  at  some  leaves,  "that 
everlasting  Robinson  !  If  you  want  to  play  something, 
let  us  rather  build  an  arbour." 

Volddya  evidently  was  playing  the  great  gentleman  : 
he,  no  doubt,  was  proud  of  having  come  on  a  hunter's 
horse,  and  he  pretended  he  was  very  tired.  But,  on  the 
other  hand,  he  may  have  had  too  mucli  common  sense 

33 


34  CHILDHOOD 

and  too  little  imagination  to  take  complete  enjoyment  in 
the  game  of  Robinson.  The  game  consisted  in  perform- 
ing scenes  from  the  "  Swiss  Family  Robinson,"  which  we 
had  lately  read 

"  Well,  why,  pray,  do  you  not  want  to  give  us  that 
pleasure  ? "  insisted  the  girls.  "  You  may  be  Charles,  or 
Ernest,  or  the  father,  —  whichever  you  wish,"  said  Ka- 
tenka,  trying  to  raise  him  from  the  ground  by  the  sleeve 
of  his  blouse. 

"  Really,  I  don't  feel  like  it,  it  is  tiresome ! "  said 
Volodya,  stretching  himself  and  at  the  same  time  smiling 
with  self-satisfaction. 

"  I  should  have  preferred  to  stay  at  home,  if  nobody 
wants  to  play,"  said  Lyubochka,  through  tears. 

She  was  a  great  blubberer. 

'<  Well,  let  us  have  it ;  only,  please,  stop  weeping,  —  I 
can't  bear  it !  " 

Volddya's  condescension  gave  us  very  little  pleasure ; 
on  the  contrary,  his  lazy  and  weary  look  destroyed  all  the 
charm  of  the  game.  When  we  seated  ourselves  on  the 
ground  and,  imagining  that  we  were  rowing  out  to  catch  fish, 
began  to  row  with  all  our  might,  Volodya  sat  down  with 
crossed  arms  and  in  a  pose  which  had  nothing  in  common 
with  the  attitude  of  a  fisherman.  I  told  him  so ;  but  he 
answered  that  we  should  gain  nothing  from  swinging  our 
arms  more  or  less,  and  that  we  should  not  get  far  away 
anyhow.  I  involuntarily  agreed  with  him.  When  I 
imagined  that,  holding  a  stick  over  my  shoulder,  I  was 
going  into  the  woods  to  hunt,  Volodya  lay  flat  on  his 
back,  with  his  hands  behind  his  head,  and  told  me  that 
he  was  going  there  too.  Such  actions  and  words  cooled 
our  zest  for  the  game,  and  were  extremely  unpleasant, 
the  more  so  since,  in  reality,  we  could  not  help  admitting 
that  Volodya  acted  wisely. 

I  know  myself  that  with  a  stick  it  is  not  possible  to 
kill  a  bird,  or  even  to  shoot  at  ail.     That  is  only  a  game. 


GAMES  35 

But  if  one  were  to  judge  that  way,  it  would  not  even 
be  possible  to  ride  on  chairs ;  and  yet,  Volddya  him- 
self remembers,  I  think,  how  in  the  long  winter  even- 
ings we  used  to  cover  an  armchair  with  a  cloth,  and 
make  a  carriage  of  it ;  one  took  the  coachman's  seat, 
another  the  *  lackey's,  the  girls  were  in  the  middle, 
three  stools  were  the  three  horses,  —  and  we  started  off 
on  the  road.  And  what  different  kinds  of  accidents  used 
to  happen  on  that  road,  and  how  merrily  and  swiftly 
those  winter  evenings  passed  away !  To  judge  by  what 
was  going  on  now,  there  would  be  no  game.  And  if  there 
were  to  be  no  game,  what,  then,  would  be  left  ? 


IX. 

SOMETHING   LIKE   FIEST   LOVE 

As  Lyiibochka  represented,  that  she  was  plucking  some 
American  fruit  from  a  tree,  she  pulled  down,  together 
with  a  leaf,  an  immense  worm  ;  she  threw  it  away  in 
terror,  lifted  up  her  hands,  and  jumped  aside,  as  if  afraid 
that  something  might  burst  from  it.  The  game  stopped, 
we  all  fell  to  the  ground,  touching  our  heads,  to  get 
a  glimpse  of  that  peculiar  thing. 

I  was  looking  over  Katenka's  shoulder,  who  was  trying 
to  lift  the  worm  on  a  leaf  which  she  placed  in  its  way. 

I  had  noticed  that  many  girls  were  in  the  habit  of 
shrugging  their  shoulders,  whenever  they  tried  to  restore 
the  low^-necked  dress  to  its  proper  place.  I  remember 
how  Mimi  used  to  get  angry  at  that  motion,  saying: 
"C'est  un  gcste  de  fenime  de  chamlre,"  As  Katenka 
was  bending  over  the  worm,  she  made  that  very  motion, 
and  at  the  same  time  the  wind  raised  her  httle  braid  from 
her  white  neck.  Her  shoulder  was,  during  that  motion 
of  hers,  about  two  feet  from  my  lips.  I  was  no  longer 
looking  at  the  worm,  but  right  straight  at  her  shoulder, 
which  I  gave  a  smacking  kiss.  She  did  not  turn  round, 
l)ut  I  noticed  that  her  neck  and  ears  were  blushing. 
Volddya  did  not  raise  his  head,  but  said,  contemptuously  : 

"  What  tenderness  ! " 

There  were  tears  in  my  eyes. 

I  did  not  take  my  eyes  away  from  Katenka.  I  had 
long  been  used  to  her  fresh,  fair  face,  and  I  always  loved 

36 


SOMETHING    LIKE    FIKST    LOVE  37 

it;  but  now  I  began  to  look  more  closely  at  it,  and 
loved  it  even  more.  When  we  walked  up  to  the  grown 
people,  papa  announced  to  our  great  delight  that,  at 
mother's  request,  our  departure  was  postponed  till  the 
next  morning. 

We  rode  back  together  with  the  carriage.  Volddya 
and  I,  desirous  to  surpass  each  other  in  the  art  of  horse- 
back riding  and  in  daring,  made  all  kinds  of  evolutions 
near  it.  My  shadow  was  now  longer  than  before,  and, 
judging  by  it,  I  supposed  that  I  had  the  appearance  of  a 
fine-looking  rider;  but  the  feeling  of  self-satisfaction 
which  I  was  experiencing  was  soon  shattered  by  the  fol- 
lowing incident.  Wishing  to  gain  the  final  applause  of 
all  those  who  were  seated  in  the  carriage,  I  lagged  a  little 
behind,  then,  with  the  aid  of  whip  and  legs,  put  the  horse 
to  a  gallop,  assumed  a  carelessly  graceful  attitude,  and 
attempted  to  pass  in  a  whirl  on  the  side  of  the  carriage, 
where  Katenka  was  sitting.  The  only  thing  I  did  not 
know  was  whether  to  pass  by  in  silence,  or  with  a  shout. 
But  the  miserable  horse  stopped  so  suddenly  the  moment  it 
came  in  a  line  with  the  carriage  horses,  in  spite  of  all  my 
efforts  to  the  contrary,  that  I  flew  over  the  saddle  upon 
its  neck,  and  came  very  near  rolling  off. 


THE    KIND    OF   A    MAN    MY   FATHEE    WAS 

He  was  a  man  of  the  past  age,  and  had  the  indefinable 
character,  common  to  the  youths  of  that  time,  a  compound 
of  chivalry,  dariug,  self-confidence,  amiability  and  merri- 
ment. He  looked  contemptuously  at  the  people  of  the 
present  generation,  which  view  originated  as  much  in  his 
inborn  haughtiness,  as  in  the  secret  annoyance  because  in 
our  age  he  could  have  neither  that  influence,  nor  those 
successes,  which  he  had  enjoyed  in  his.  His  two  chief 
passions  in  life  were  cards  and  women ;  he  had  won 
several  milhons  in  the  course  of  his  life,  and  he  had 
liaisons  with  an  endless  number  of  women  of  all  classes  of 
society. 

A  tall,  stately  stature,  a  strange,  mincing  gait,  a  habit 
of  shrugging  his  shoulder,  small,  eternally  smiling  eyes,  a 
large,  aquihne  nose,  irregular  lips  that  were  folded  rather 
awkwardly,  but  pleasantly,  a  defective  enunciation, —  he 
lisped,  —  and  a  head  entirely  bald :  such  was  the  exterior 
of  my  father  ever  since  I  can  remember  him,  —  an 
exterior  with  which  he  managed  not  only  to  pass  for  a 
man  d,  bonnes  fortunes,  —  and  he  really  was  such,  —  but 
even  to  be  in  favour  with  people  of  all  conditions  of  hfe, 
especially  with  those  whom  he  wished  to  please. 

He  know  how  to  get  the  besc  out  of  his  relations  with 
everybody.  Although  he  had  never  been  a  man  of  very 
fashionable  society,  he  always  cultivated  the  acquaintance 
of  people  of  that  circle,  and  he  did  this  in  such  a  manner 


THE    KIND    OF    A    MAN    MY    FATHER    WAS         39 

as  to  be  respected.  He  was  possessed  of  that  extreme 
measure  of  pride  and  self-coiifideuce  which,  without 
offending  others,  raised  him  iu  tlie  opinion  of  the  world. 
He  was  original,  thougli  not  always  so,  and  he  used  this 
originality  as  a  means  of  social  advancement  which  in 
some  cases  took  the  place  of  worldliness  and  wealth. 
Nothing  in  the  world  could  rouse  in  him  a  feeling  of  sur- 
prise :  in  whatever  brilliant  position  he  happened  to  be, 
he  always  seemed  to  have  been  born  for  it.  He  knew  so 
well  how  to  hide  from  others  and  remove  from  himself  the 
dark  side  of  Kfe  which  is  filled  with  petty  annoyances 
and  grief,  that  it  was  impossible  not  to  envy  him.  He 
was  a  connoisseur  in  all  things  that  furnish  comfort  and 
enjoyment,  and  he  knew  how  to  use  them. 

His  hobby  was  his  brilliant  connections,  which  he  pos- 
sessed partly  through  my  mother's  family  relations,  partly 
through  the  companions  of  his  youth.  But  at  them  he 
was  angered  in  his  heart,  because  they  had  far  advanced 
in  rank,  while  he  for  ever  remained  a  Lieutenant  of  the 
Guard,  out  of  service.  Like  all  former  military  men,  he 
did  not  know  how  to  dress  fashionably ;  but  he  dressed 
originally  and  with  taste.  He  always  wore  ample  light 
raiment,  beautiful  linen,  large  turned-back  cuffs  and  col- 
lars. And  everything  was  well  adapted  to  his  tall  stature, 
strong  frame,  bald  head,  and  quiet,  self-confident  motions. 

He  was  sensitive  and  even  given  to  weeping.  Fre- 
quently, when  in  reading  aloud  he  reached  a  pathetic 
passage,  his  voice  would  falter,  and  tears  appear,  and  he 
would  angrily  put  down  the  book.  He  loved  music  and 
sang,  accompanying  himself  at  the  piano,  the  ditties  of  his 

friend  A ,  gipsy  songs  and  some  arias  from  operas ; 

but  he  did  not  like  "  scientific "  music  and,  disregarding 
the  commonly  accepted  opinion,  openly  said  that  Beet- 
hoven's sonatas  made  him  sleepy  and  tired,  and  that  he 
knew  nothing  better  than  "  Wake  me  not,  while  I  am 
young,"  as  Madam  Semenov  used  to  sing  it,  and  "  Not 


40  CHILDHOOD 

alone,"  as  the  gipsy  maiden  Tanyusha  sang  it.  His  nature 
was  one  of  those  which  for  a  good  deed  need  a  public. 
God  knows  whether  he  had  any  moral  convictions.  His 
hfe  was  so  full  of  distractions  of  all  kinds  that  he  had 
had  no  time  to  form  them,  and  he  was  so  fortunate  in  his 
life  that  he  saw  no  need  for  them. 

In  his  old  age  he  formed  settled  opinions  and  invari- 
able rules  for  everything,  but  they  were  all  based  exclu- 
sively on  a  practical  basis.  Those  acts  and  that  conduct 
of  life  which  caused  him  happiness  and  pleasure  he 
regarded  as  good,  and  he  considered  that  all  people  ought 
at  all.  times  to  act  likewise.  He  spoke  with  great  enthu- 
siasm, and  that  ability,  it  seemed  to  me,  increased  the 
flexibility  of  his  rules :  he  was  not  able  to  speak  of 
the  same  deed  as  a  very  pleasant  jest  and  as  an  act 
of  low  rascality. 


XL 


OCCUPATIONS     IN     THE     CABINET     AND     IN     THE     SITTING- 

EOOM 

It  was  getting  dark  when  we  reached  home.  Mamma 
seated  herself  at  the  piano,  and  we  children  brought 
paper,  pencils,  and  paint,  and  took  up  positions  at  the 
round  table.  I  had  only  some  blue  paint ;  yet  I  began  to 
picture  the  hunt  with  that  alone.  Having  very  vividly 
represented  a  blue  boy  astride  on  a  blue  horse,  and  blue 
dogs,  I  was  not  quite  sure  whether  it  was  proper  to  paint 
a  blue  hare,  and  so  I  ran  into  papa's  cabinet  to  take  coun- 
sel with  him.  Papa  was  reading  something,  and  to  my 
question,  "  Are  there  any  blue  hares  ? "  he  answered,  with- 
out raising  his  head,  "  There  are,  my  dear,  there  are."  I 
returned  to  the  round  table  and  painted  a  blue  hare ;  but 
I  found  it  necessary  later  to  change  the  blue  hare  into  a 
bush.  The  bush  did  not  please  me  either ;  I  made  a  tree 
of  it,  and  of  the  tree  I  made  a  hay  rick,  and  of  the  rick  a 
cloud,  and  finally  I  so  smeared  the  whole  paper  over  with 
the  blue  paint,  that  I  tore  it  up  in  anger,  and  dozed  off  in 
an  armchair. 

Mamma  was  playing  the  second  concert  of  Field,  her 
teacher.  I  was  dozing,  and  in  my  imagination  rose  some 
hght,  bright  and  transparent  recollections.  She  began  to 
play  a  pathetic  sonata  of  Beethoven,  and  something  sad, 
heavy  and  gloomy  overcast  my  mind.  Mamma  often 
played  tliese  two  pieces.  I  very  well  remember,  there- 
fore, the  feehng  which  they  evoked  in  me.     That  feeling 

4] 


42  CniLDHOOD 

resembled  recollections,  but  recollections  of  what  ?  It 
seemed  to  me  that  I  was  recalling  something  that  had 
never  been. 

Opposite  me  was  the  door  to  the  cabinet,  and  I  saw 
Yakov  and  some  other  people  in  caftans  and  beards  enter- 
ing through  it.  The  door  was  at  once  closed  after  them. 
"  Well,  now  the  occupation  has  begun  ! "  thought  I.  It 
seemed  to  me  there  was  nothing  more  important  in  the 
whole  world  than  the  affairs  which  were  transacted  in  the 
cabinet.  I  was  strengthened  in  this  belief  because  people 
generally  walked  up  to  the  door  of  the  cabinet  whispering 
and  on  tiptoe,  while  from  it  was  heard  papa's  loud  voice, 
and  was  borne  the  odour  of  a  cigar  which,  for  some  reason, 
always  attracted  me.  In  my  waking  moments  I  was  sud- 
denly struck  by  a  famihar  creaking  of  boots  in  the  offi- 
ciating room.  Karl  Ivanovich  walked  up  on  tiptoe,  but 
with  a  gloomy  and  firm  face,  holding  some  kind  of  notes 
in  his  hand,  and  lightly  knocked  at  the  door.  He  was 
admitted,  and  the  door  was  again  closed. 

"  I  wonder  whether  some  misfortune  has  happened," 
thought  I.  "  Karl  Ivanovich  is  angry,  and  he  is  capable  of 
doing  almost  anything." 

I  again  fell  asleep. 

There  was,  however,  no  misfortune.  An  hour  later  the 
same  creaking  boots  awoke  me.  Karl  Ivanovich,  with  his 
handkerchief  wiping  off  the  tears  which  I  had  noticed  on 
his  cheeks,  issued  from  the  door,  and  mumbling  something 
to  himself,  went  up-stairs.  Papa  came  out  after  him,  and 
entered  the  sitting-room. 

"  Do  you  know  what  I  have  just  decided  ? "  said  he  in 
a  happy  voice,  placing  his  hand  on  mamma's  shoulder. 

"  What,  my  dear  ?  " 

"  I  shall  take  Karl  Ivanovich  along  with  the  children. 
They  are  used  to  him,  and  he,  it  seems,  is  really  attached 
to  them.  Seven  hundred  roubles  a  year  does  not  amount 
to  much,  et  puis  au  fond  c'est  un  tres  hon  diahle" 


OCCUPATIONS    IN    CABINET    AND    SITTING-ROOM    43 

I  could  not  at  all  grasp  why  papa  was  scolding  Karl 
Ivanovich. 

"  I  am  very  glad,"  said  mamma,  "  both  for  the  children 
and  for  him ;  he  is  an  excellent  old  man." 

"  You  ought  to  have  seen  how  touched  he  was  when  I 
told  him  that  he  should  leave  the  five  hundred  roubles  as 
a  present  for  the  children  !  But  what  is  most  amusing  is 
the  bill  which  he  brouglit  me.  It  is  worth  looking  at," 
added  he,  with  a  smile,  as  he  gave  her  the  note  which  had 
been  written  by  Karl  Ivanovich's  hand.    "  It  is  fine  ! " 

Here  are  the  contents  of  the  note. 

"  For  the  children  two  fishing-rod  —  70  kopek. 

"  Coloured  paper,  gold  border,  glew  and  form  for  boxs, 
as  presents — 6  roubles  55  kopek. 

"A  book  and  bow,  presents  to  children  —  8  roubles  16 
kopek. 

"  Pantaloon  to  Nikolay  —  4  rouble. 

"  Promised  by  Peter  Aleksantrofich  from  Moscow  in  the 
year  18 —  gold  watch  at  140  roubles. 

"  Sum  total  due  to  Karl  Mauer  outside  of  salary  —  159 
roubles  79  kopek." 

Eeading  this  note,  in  which  Karl  Ivanovich  demanded 
payment  for  all  his  expenditures  for  presents,  and  even 
for  a  present  w^iich  he  had  been  promised,  everybody 
wiU  conclude  that  Karl  Ivanovich  was  nothing  more 
than  an  unfeeling  and  avaricious  egoist,  but  that  is  a 
mistake. 

When  he  entered  the  cabinet  with  the  notes  in  his  hand 
and  with  a  ready  speBch  in  his  head,  he  had  intended  to 
expatiate  to  papa  on  all  the  injustice  which  he  had  suf- 
fered in  our  house,  but  when  he  began  to  speak  in  the 
same  touching  voice  and  the  same  touching  intonations  in 
which  he  generally  dictated  to  us,  his  eloquence  acted  most 
powerfully  upon  himself,  so  that  when  he  reached  the 
place  where  he  said,  "  However  sad  it  will  be  for  me  to 
part  from  the  chiklren/'  he  completely  lost  himself,  his 


44  CHILDHOOD 

voice  began  to  tremble,  and  he  was  compelled  to  get  his 
checkered  handkerchief  out  of  his  pocket. 

"  Yes,  Peter  Aleksandrych,"  said  he  through  tears  (that 
passage  was  not  at  all  in  Ms  prepared  speech),  "I  am  so 
accustomed  to  the  children  that  I  do  not  know  what  I  am 
going  to  do  without  them.  I  should  prefer  to  serve  you 
without  pay,"  he  added,  with  one  hand  wiping  liis  tears, 
and  with  the  other  handing  in  his  bill. 

I  am  al)Solutely  sure  that  Karl  Ivanovich  was  that 
moment  speaking  sincerely,  because  I  know  his  good 
heart ;  but  it  remains  a  mystery  to  me  how  his  bill  har- 
monized with  his  words. 

"  If  the  parting  is  sad  for  you,  it  is  still  sadder  for  me," 
said  papa,  tapping  his  shoulder.  "  I  have  now  changed  my 
mind." 

Shortly  before  supper,  Grisha  entered  the  room.  He 
had  not  ceased  sobbing  and  weeping  from  the  time  he  had 
come  to  our  home,  which,  in  the  opinion  of  those  who 
believed  in  his  ability  to  predict,  foreboded  some  misfor- 
tune for  our  house.  He  began  to  take  leave,  and  said  that 
the  next  morning  he  would  wander  on.  I  beckoned  to 
Volodya,  and  went  out-of-doors. 

"  What  ? " 

"  If  you  want  to  see  Grisha's  chains,  let  us  go  up-stairs, 
to  the  apartments  of  the  male  servants.  Grisha  sleeps 
there  in  the  second  room,  and  we  can  see  everything  from 
the  lumber-room,  and  we  shall  see  everything  —  " 

"  Superb !     Wait  here  awhile  ;  I  will  call  the  girls." 

The  girls  came  out,  and  we  proceeded  up-stairs.  After 
some  dispute  as  to  who  should  be  the  first  to  go  into  the 
dark  lumber-room,  we  seated  ourselves,  and  began  to  wait. 


GRISHA 

We  felt  ill  at  ease  in  the  darkness.  We  pressed  close 
to  each  other,  and  did  not  say  a  word.  Almost  right  after 
us  Grisha  entered  with  slow  steps.  In  one  hand  he  held 
his  staff,  in  the  other  a  tallow  dip  in  a  brass  candlestick. 
We  did  not  dare  to  breathe. 

"  Lord  Jesus  Christ !  Holy  Mother  of  God  !  To  the 
Father,  the  Son  and  the  Holy  Ghost,"  repeated  he,  breath- 
ing heavily,  with  all  kinds  of  intonations  and  abbrevia- 
tions which  are  peculiar  only  to  those  who  often  repeat 
these  words. 

Having,  with  a  prayer,  placed  his  staff  in  the  corner, 
and  surveying  his  bed,  he  began  to  undress.  Ungirding 
his  old  black  belt,  he  slowly  took  off  his  torn  nankeen 
frock,  carefully  folded  it,  and  hung  it  over  the  back  of  the 
chair.  His  face  did  not  now  express,  as  usually,  dulness 
and  haste;  on  the  contrary,  he  was  quiet,  pensive,  and 
even  majestic.     His  motions  were  slow  and  thoughtful. 

When  he  was  left  in  the  linen,  he  softly  let  himself 
down  on  his  bed,  made  the  sign  of  the  cross  over  it  on 
all  sides,  and,  as  could  easily  be  seen,  with  an  effort  (lie 
was  frowning)  rearranged  the  chains  under  his  shirt. 
Having  remained  for  a  minute  in  a  sitting  posture,  and 
carefully  examining  the  linen  which  had  been  torn  in 
places,  he  arose,  with  a  prayer  raised  the  candle  on  a 
level  with  the  holy  shrine,  in  which  were  a  few  images, 
made  the  sign  of  the  cross  toward  them,  and  turned  the 

45 


46  CHILDHOOD 

candle  upside  down.  It  went  out  with  a  crackling 
sound. 

The  almost  full  moon  burst  through  the  windows  that 
looked  out  upon  the  forest.  The  long,  white  figure  of 
the  fool  was,  on  the  one  side,  illuminated  by  the  pale, 
silvery  beams  of  the  moon,  and,  on  the  other,  it  fell  as  a 
black  shadow,  together  with  the  shadows  from  the  frames, 
upon  the  floor  and  the  walls,  and  reached  up  to  the  ceil- 
ing. In  the  yard  the  watchman  was  beating  his  brass 
plate. 

Crossing  his  enormous  hands  on  his  breast,  dropping 
liis  head,  and  continually  drawing  deep  breaths,  Grisha 
stood  silently  before  tlie  images,  then  with  difficulty  let 
himself  down  on  his  knees  and  began  to  pray. 

At  first  he  softly  said  familiar  prayers,  accentuating 
certain  words,  then  he  repeated  them,  but  louder  and 
with  more  animation.  He  began  to  use  his  own  words, 
with  perceptible  effort  trying  to  express  himself  in  Church- 
Slavic.  His  words  were  incorrect,  but  touching.  He 
prayed  for  all  his  benefactors  (thus  he  called  all  who  re- 
ceived Mm),  among  them  for  my  mother,  and  for  us;  he 
prayed  for  himself,  and  asked  the  Lord  to  forgive  him  his 
heavy  sins,  and  repeated,  "  O  Lord,  forgive  mine  ene- 
mies ! "  He  arose  with  groans,  still  repeating  the  same 
vv^ords,  prostrated  himself  upon  the  ground,  and  again 
arose,  in  spite  of  the  weight  of  the  chains  that  emitted  a 
grating,  penetrating  sound  as  they  struck  the  ground. 

Volodya  pinched  my  leg  very  painfully,  but  I  did  not 
even  turn  round.  I  only  rubbed  the  place  with  my  hand 
and  continued,  with  a  feeling  of  childish  wonder,  pity, 
and  awe,  to  follow  all  the  movements  and  words  of 
Grisha. 

Instead  of  merriment  and  laughter,  which  I  had  ex- 
pected upon  entering  the  lumber-room,  I  now  experienced 
a  chill  and  anguish  of  soul. 

Grisha  was  for  a  lonix  time  in  that  attitude  of  religious 


GRISHA  47 

ecstasy,  and  he  improvised  prayers.  Now  he  repeated 
several  times  iu  succession,  "  The  Lord  have  mercy  upon 
me,"  but  every  time  with  new  strength  and  expression ; 
now,  again,  he  said,  "Forgive  me,  0  Lord,  instruct  me 
what  to  do,  instruct  me  what  to  do,  O  Lord  ! "  with  an 
expression,  as  if  he  expected  an  immediate  answer  to  his 
prayer;  now,  again,  were  heard  only  pitiful  sobs.  He 
rose  on  his  knees,  crossed  his  arms  on  his  breast,  and 
grew  silent, 

I  softly  put  my  head  out  of  the  door,  and  did  not 
breathe,  Grisha  did  not  move ;  deep  sighs  escaped  from 
his  breast;  in  the  dim  pupil  of  his  blind  eye,  which 
was  illuminated  by  the  moon,  stopped  a  tear, 

"  Thy  will  be  done ! "  he  suddenly  exclaimed  with  an 
inimitable  expression,  knocked  his  brow  against  the  floor, 
and  began  to  sob  like  an  infant. 

Much  water  has  flowed  since  then,  many  memories  of 
the  past  have  lost  all  meaning  for  me  and  have  become 
dim  recollections,  and  pilgrim  Grisha  has  long  ago  ended 
his  last  pilgrimage ;  but  the  impression  which  he  pro- 
duced on  me,  and  the  feeling  which  he  evoked,  will 
never  die  in  my  memory, 

O  great  Christian  Grisha !  Your  faith  was  so  strong 
that  you  felt  the  nearness  of  God  ;  your  love  V7as  so  great 
that  words  flowed  of  their  own  will  from  your  lips,  and 
you  did  not  verify  them  by  reason.  And  what  high 
praise  you  gave  to  His  majesty,  when,  not  finding  any 
words,  you  prostrated  yourself  on  the  ground ! 

The  feeling  of  contrition  with  which  I  listened  to 
Grisha  could  not  last  long ;  in  the  first  place,  because  my 
curiosity  was  satisfied,  and,  in  the  second,  because  my 
feet  had  fallen  asleep  from  sitting  so  long  in  one  posture, 
and  I  wanted  to  join  in  the  general  whispering  and  con- 
sultation which  was  taking  place  behind  me  in  the  dark 
lumber-room.  Somebody  touched  my  hand,  and  said  in 
a  whisper,  "  Whose  hand  is  it  ? "     It  was  very  dark  in 


48  CHILDHOOD 

the  lumber-room,  but,  by  the  mere  touch  and  by  the 
voice  that  was  whispering  right  over  my  ear,  I  imme- 
diately recognized  Katenka. 

Quite  unconsciously  I  seized  her  short-gloved  arm  at 
the  elbow,  and  pressed  my  lips  against  it.  Katenka,  it 
seems,  was  surprised  at  this  action,  and  drew  her  hand 
back ;  in  doing  so,  she  knocked  down  a  broken  chair 
which  was  standing  in  the  lumber-room.  Grisha  raised 
his  head,  quietly  looked  around  and,  saying  his  prayer, 
began  to  make  the  sign  of  the  cross  in  all  the  cornerSc 
"We  ran  out  of  the  lumber-room  noisily. 


XIII. 

NATALYA   siviSHNA 

In  the  middle  of  the  last  century  there  used  to  run 
about  the  yards  of  the  village  Khabarovka,  in  a  dress  of 
ticking,  the  barefoot,  but  merry,  fat,  and  red-cheeked 
girl,  Natashka.  On  account  of  the  deserts,  and  at  the 
request  of  her  father,  the  clarinet-player  Savva,  my  grand- 
father took  her  "up-stairs,"  to  be  among  the  female 
servants  of  grandmother.  Chambermaid  Natashka  distin- 
guished herself  in  that  capacity,  both  by  her  meekness 
of  manner  and  by  her  zeal.  When  mother  was  born,  and 
a  nurse  was  needed,  this  duty  fell  on  Natasbka,  In  that 
new  field  she  earned  praises  and  rewards  for  her  activity, 
faithfulness,  and  attachment  to  the  young  miss.  But 
the  powdered  head  and  the  buckled  stockings  of  young, 
dapper,  officious  Fdka,  who  had  frequent  relations  with 
her  during  his  duties,  charmed  her  coarse,  but  loving 
heart.  She  had  even  made  up  her  own  mind  to  go  to 
grandfather  to  ask  his  permission  to  marry  Foka.  Grand- 
father received  her  wish  as  a  sign  of  her  ingratitude, 
grew  angry,  and  sent  poor  Natalya,  as  a  punishment, 
into  the  cattle-yard  in  a  village  of  the  steppes.  Six 
months  later,  however,  since  there  was  no  one  who  could 
take  her  place,  she  was  brought  back  to  the  estate,  and 
restored  to  her  old  position.  As  she  returned  from  ban- 
ishment in  her  ticking  garments,  she  appeared  before 
grandfather,  fell  down  before  his  feet,  and  asked  him  to 
restore  her  to  his  former  favour  and  kindness,  and  to  for- 

49 


50  CHILDHOOD 

get  her  old  infatuation  which,  she  swore,  would  never 
again  return.     And,  indeed,  she  kept  her  word. 

Since  then  Natashka  became  Natalya  Savishna,  and 
douued  a  cap ;  all  the  abundance  of  love  which  she  treas- 
ured she  transferred  to  her  young  lady. 

When  a  governess  took  her  place  with  my  mother,  she 
received  the  keys  of  the  larder,  and  all  the  linen  and  the 
provisions  were  placed  in  her  hands.  She  executed  her 
new  duties  with  the  same  zeal  and  love.  She  hved  only 
for  the  good  of  her  masters,  and  seeing  in  everything  loss, 
ruin,  and  misappropriation,  tried  in  all  ways  to  counteract 
them. 

When  mamma  married,  she  wished  to  show  her  appre- 
ciation of  Natalya  Savishna's  twenty  years'  labour  and 
faithfulness ;  so  she  sent  for  her,  and  expressing  in  the 
most  flattering  words  all  her  gratefulness  and  love  for 
her,  handed  her  a  sheet  of  paper  with  a  revenue  stamp 
upon  it,  on  which  was  written  Natalya  Savishna's  eman- 
cipation, adding  that,  no  matter  whether  she  continued  to 
serve  in  our  house  or  not,  she  would  receive  a  yearly  pen- 
sion of  three  hundred  roubles.  Natalya  listened  to  all 
that  in  silence,  then,  taking  the  document  in  her  hands, 
angrily  looked  upon  it,  mumbled  something  between  her 
teeth,  and  ran  out  of  the  room,  slamming  the  door  behind 
her.  Mamma  did  not  understand  the  cause  of  her  strange 
act,  so,  waiting  a  few  minutes,  she  went  into  Natalya 
Savishna's  room.  She  was  sitting  with  tearful  eyes  upon 
her  coffer,  fingering  her  handkerchief,  and  was  looking 
fixedly  at  the  bits  of  the  torn  emancipation  document 
that  were  lying  near  her  feet. 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  you,  my  dear  Natalya  ? " 
asked  mamma,  as  she  took  her  hand. 

"  Nothing,  motherkin,"  answered  she.  "  Evidently  I 
have  in  some  way  displeased  you,  that  you  are  chasing 
me  from  the  estate.     Well,  I  shall  go." 

She  tore  her  hand  away  and,  scarcely  restraining  her 


NATALYA    SAVISHNA  51 

tears,  wanted  to  rush  out  of  the  room.  Mamma  kept 
her  back,  embraced  her,  and  they  both  melted  into  tears. 

As  far  back  as  I  can  remember  myself,  I  remember 
Natalya  Savishna,  her  love  and  her  favours  ;  but  it  is  only 
now  that  I  am  able  to  estimate  them,  —  for  then  it  never 
occurred  to  me  what  a  rare  and  remarkable  being  that  old 
woman  was.  She  not  only  never  spoke,  but,  it  seems, 
she  never  even  thought  of  herself ;  all  her  life  consisted 
of  love  and  self-sacrifice.  I  was  so  accustomed  to  her 
unselfish,  tender  love  for  us  that  I  did  not  imagine  it 
could  have  been  otherwise,  in  no  way  was  grateful  to  her, 
and  never  asked  myself  whether  she  was  happy  or  satisfied. 

At  times  I  would  run  into  her  chamber,  under  the  pfe- 
text  of  some  absolute  necessity,  and  would  sit  down  and 
begin  to  think  aloud,  not  being  in  the  least  troubled  by 
her  presence.  She  was  always  busy  with  something :  she 
either  knitted  some  stockings  or  rummaged  through  the 
coffers  with  which  her  chamber  was  crowded,  or  took  a 
list  of  the  hnen,  and,  hstening  to  all  the  nonsense  which 
I  was  talking,  how,  "  when  I  shall  be  a  general,  I  will 
marry  a  famous  beauty,  will  buy  me  a  red  horse,  will 
build  me  a  glass  house,  and  will  send  for  Karl  Ivanovich's 
relatives  in  Saxony,"  and  so  forth,  she  would  say,  "  Yes, 
my  dear,  yes."  Generally,  when  I  got  up  to  go,  she 
opened  a  blue  coffer,  on  the  lid  of  which  were  pasted,  on 
the  inside,  —  I  remember  it  as  if  it  happened  to-day,  —  a 
coloured  reproduction  of  a  hussar,  a  picture  with  a  poma- 
tum can,  and  a  drawing  by  Volddya,  —  took  out  of  that 
box  some  incense,  lighted  it,  and,  fanning,  said  : 

"  This,  my  dear  one,  is  incense  from  Ochakov.  When 
your  deceased  gi-andfather  —  the  kingdom  of  heaven  be 
his !  —  went  against  the  Turks,  he  brought  it  back  from 
there.  There  is  only  this  last  piece  left,"  she  added 
with  a  sigh. 

In  the  coffers  that  filled  the  room  there  was  absolutelv 
everything.     Ko  matter  what  was  needed,  they  used  to 


52  CHILDHOOD 

say,  "  We  ought  to  ask  Natalya  Savishna,"  and,  indeed, 
after  rummaging  awhile,  she  would  find  the  necessary 
article  and  declare,  "  Lucidly  I  have  put  it  away."  In 
these  coffers  there  were  thousands  of  such  articles  of 
which  nobody  in  the  house  knew  anything,  and  for  which 
no  one  cared,  except  she. 

Once  I  was  angry  with  her.  It  happened  Hke  this. 
At  dinner,  as  I  was  pouring  out  a  glass  of  kvas,  I 
dropped  the  bottle  and  spoiled  the  table-cloth. 

"  Call  Natalya  Savishna  to  see  what  her  darling  child 
has  done,"  said  mamma. 

Natalya  Savishna  entered,  and,  seeing  the  puddle  which 
Iliad  made,  shook  her  head;  then  mamma  said  some- 
thing in  her  ear,  and  she  went  out  threatening  me  with 
her  finger. 

After  dinner  I  went  into  the  parlour,  leaping  about  in 
the  happiest  frame  of  mind,  when  suddenly  Natalya 
Savishna  jumped  from  behind  the  door,  with  the  table- 
cloth in  her  hands,  caught  me,  and  began  to  wipe  my  face 
with  the  wet  part  of  it,  all  the  time  saying :  "  Don't  soil 
table-cloths,  don't  soil  table-cloths ! "  That  so  incensed 
me,  that  I  bawled  from  anger. 

"  What ! "  said  I  to  myself,  as  I  walked  about  the  par- 
lour and  choked  with  tears,  "  Natalya  Savishna,  simple 
Natalya,  says  '  thou '  to  me,  and  strikes  my  face  with  a 
wet  table-cloth,  as  if  I  w^ere  a  common  village  boy.  No, 
that  is  terrible ! " 

When  Natalya  Savishna  saw  that  I  was  blubbering, 
she  ran  away,  but  I  continued  to  strut  about  and  to  con- 
sider how  to  repay  insolent  Natalya  fcjr  the  insult  which 
she  had  offered  me. 

A  few  minutes  later  Natalya  Savishna  returned,  timidly 
accosted  me,  and  began  to  console  me. 

"  Do  stop,  my  dear  one,  stop  weeping  —  forgive  me, 
foolish  woman  —  I  have  done  wrong  —  you  will  forgive 
me,  my  darhng  —  here  is  something  for  you." 


NATALYA    SAVISIINA  53 

She  took  from  her  handkerchief  a  cornet,  in  which 
were  two  pieces  of  caramels  and  one  fig,  and  with  a  trem- 
bling hand  gave  them  to  me.  I  did  not  have  enough 
strength  to  look  into  the  face  of  the  good  old  woman ;  I 
turned  away,  as  I  accepted  the  present,  and  ray  tears 
began  to  flow  more  copiously,  this  time  not  from  anger, 
but  from  love  and  shame 


XlV 

THE    SEPARATION" 

On  the  day  followiug  the  incidents  described  by  me,  at 
the  twelfth  hour,  a  carriage  and  a  calash  stood  at  the 
entrance.  Nikolay  was  dressed  in  travelling  fashion  ;  that 
is,  liis  trousers  were  tucked  into  his  boots  and  his  coat 
was  tightly  girded  by  a  belt.  He  was  standing  in  the 
calash  and  arranging  the  ulsters  and  pillows  on  the  seats ; 
if  they  seemed  too  much  puffed,  he  seated  himself  on  the 
pillows,  and,  leaping  up  and  down,  pressed  them  into 
shape. 

"  For  the  Lord's  sake,  do  us  the  favour,  Nikolay  Dmit- 
trich,  to  see  whether  you  can't  put  in  the  master's  strong 
box,"  said  papa's  valet,  breathlessly,  as  he  stuck  his  head 
out  of  the  carriage ;  "  it  is  a  small  affair." 

"  You  ought  to  have  said  so  before,  Mikh^y  Ivanych," 
answered  Nikolay  hastily  and  in  anger,  throwdng  with 
all  his  might  a  bundle  into  the  bottom  of  the  calash. 
"  Upon  my  word,  my  head  is  in  a  whirl  as  it  is,  and 
there  you  are  bothering  me  with  your  strong  boxes,"  he 
added,  raising  his  cap,  and  wiping  off  large  drops  of  per- 
spiration from  his  sun-browned  face. 

The  manorial  peasants,  in  coats,  caftans,  and  shirts, 
and  without  hats,  the  women  in  ticking  skirts  and  striped 
kerchiefs,  with  babes  in  their  arms,  and  the  boys  barefoot, 
stood  around  the  veranda,  examined  the  vehicles,  and 
conversed  with  each  other.  One  of  the  drivers,  a  stoop- 
ing old  man  in  a  winter  cap  and  a  camel-hair  coat,  held 

54 


THE    SEPARATION  55 

in  his  hand  the  shaft  of  the  carriage,  moved  it  to  and  fro, 
and  thoughtfully  looked  at  the  wheels;  another,  a  fine- 
looking  youug  lad,  clad  only  in  a  white  shirt  with  red 
Bukhara  cotton  gussets,  and  wearing  a  black  lambskin 
cap  shaped  like  a  cylindrical  buckwheat  cake,  which  he, 
scratching  his  blond  locks,  poised  now  on  one  ear,  now 
on  the  other,  put  his  camel-hair  coat  on  the  coachman's 
box,  threw  the  reins  there  also  and,  snappiug  his  plaited 
whip,  looked  now  at  his  boots,  now  at  the  coachmen  who 
were  greasing  the  calash.  One  of  them,  straining  him- 
self, was  holding  a  jack  ;  another,  bending  over  the  wheel, 
was  carefully  greasing  the  axle  and  the  axle-box,  and, 
not  to  lose  the  last  bit  of  grease  left  on  the  brush,  smeared 
it  on  the  lower  part  of  tlie  rim. 

Variously  coloured,  weak-kneed  post-horses  stood  at  the 
picket  fence  and  switched  the  flies  off  with  their  tails. 
Some  of  them,  spreading  their  shaggy,  swollen  legs, 
blinked  their  eyes  and  were  dozing ;  others  rubbed  each 
other,  from  ennui,  or  nibbled  at  leaves  or  stalks  of  rough, 
dark-green  ferns  that  grew  near  the  veranda.  A  few 
greyhounds  either  breathed  heavily,  lying  in  the  sun,  or 
walked  about  in  the  shade  under  the  carriage  and  calash, 
and  licked  the  grease  which  oozed  out  of  the  axles.  There 
was  a  dusty  mist  in  the  air,  and  the  horizon  was  of  gray- 
ish olive  hue ;  but  there  was  not  a  cloud  to  be  seen  in  the 
whole  sky.  A  strong  westerly  wind  raised  columns  of  dust 
from  the  Toads  and  fields,  bent  the  tops  of  the  tall  linden- 
trees  and  birches  of  the  garden,  and  carried  far  away 
the  falling  yellow  leaves.  I  was  sitting  near  the  window, 
and  impatiently  was  waiting  for  the  end  of  all  the  prepa- 
rations. 

When  all  had  gathered  in  the  sitting-room  near  the 
round  table,  in  order  to  pass  a  few  minutes  together,  for 
the  last  time,  it  did  not  occur  to  me  what  a  sad  moment 
awaited  us.  The  most  trifling  thoughts  were  crossing  my 
brain.     I  asked  myself :  which  coachman  will  ride  in  the 


56  CHILDHOOD 

calash,  and  which  one  in  the  carriage  ?  Who  will  travel 
with  papa,  and  who  with  Karl  Ivanovich  ?  and  why  do 
they  insist  in  wrapping  me  in  a  shawl  and  a  wadded 
jacket  ? 

"  I  am  not  as  tender  as  that.  Don't  be  afraid,  I  shall 
not  freeze.  If  only  there  will  soon  be  an  end  to  it  all ! 
If  we  just  could  get  seated,  and  be  off ! " 

"  To  whom  will  you  order  me  to  give  a  note  about  the 
children's  linen  ?  "  said  Natalya  Savishna,  who  had  entered 
with  tearful  eyes  and  carrying  a  note  in  her  hand,  as  she 
turned  to  mamma. 

"  Give  it  to  Nikolay,  and  then  come  to  tell  the  children 
good-bye ! " 

The  old  woman  wanted  to  say  something,  but  suddenly 
stopped,  covered  her  face  with  her  handkerchief,  and, 
motioning  with  her  hand,  left  the  room.  My  heart  was 
pinched  when  I  saw  her  motion ;  but  my  impatience  to 
travel  was  greater  than  my  sympathy,  and  I  continued 
to  listen  with  complete  indifference  to  the  conversation 
between  father  and  mother.  They  were  evidently  speak- 
ing about  things  that  interested  neither  the  one  nor  the 
ether :  what  it  was  necessary  to  buy  for  the  house ;  what 
to  say  to  Princess  Sophie  and  Madame  Julie ;  and  whether 
the  road  would  be  good. 

Eoka  entered,  and  in  the  same  voice  in  which  he 
announced  "  Dinner  is  served,"  he  said,  as  he  stopped 
on  the  threshold,  "  The  horses  are  ready."  I  noticed  how 
mamma  shuddered  and  grew  pale  at  this  bit  of  news,  as 
if  it  had  been  something  unforeseen  by  her. 

Foka  was  ordered  to  close  all  the  doors  in  the  house. 
That  anmsed  me  very  much,  "■  as  if  everybody  were  hiding 
from  somebody." 

When  all  seated  themselves,  —  Fdka,  too,  sat  down  on 
the  edge  of  a  chair,  —  but  the  moment  he  did  that,  the 
door  creaked,  and  everybody  looked  round.  Natalya 
rapidly  entered  the  room,  and,  without  raising  her  eyes^ 


THE    SEPARATION  57 

seated  herself  at  the  door  on  the  same  chair  with  Fdka. 
I  see  clearly  the  bald,  wrinkled  face  of  Foka  and  the 
bent,  kindly  figure  in  the  cap,  underneath  which  gray 
hair  peeped  out.  They  are  both  pressing  together  on  one 
chair,  and  they  both  feel  uncomfortable. 

I  continued  to  be  careless  and  impatient.  The  ten 
seconds  during  which  we  sat  with  closed  doors  appeared 
to  me  a  whole  hour.  Finally  all  arose,  made  the  sign  of 
the  cross,  and  began  to  take  leave.  Papa  embraced 
mamma,  and  kissed  her  several  times. 

"  That  will  do,  my  dear ! "  said  papa ;  "  we  are  not 
departing  for  an  age." 

"  It  is  sad,  nevertheless ! "  said  mamma,  in  a  voice 
trembling  with  tears. 

When  I  heard  that  voice  and  saw  her  quivering  lips 
and  eyes  full  of  tears,  I  forgot  everything,  and  I  felt  so 
sad,  so  pained,  and  so  utterly  wretched,  that  I  wanted 
rather  to  run  away  than  to  bid  her  farewell.  I  under- 
stood at  that  moment  that  when  she  embraced  father, 
she  really  was  bidding  us  farewell. 

She  began  so  many  times  to  kiss  Volodya  and  to  make 
the  sign  of  the  cross  over  him  that,  supposing  she  was 
going  to  turn  to  me,  I  pushed  myself  forward,  but  she 
again  and  again  blessed  him  and  pressed  him  to  her 
breast.  At  last,  I  embraced  her  and,  clinging  to  her,  wept 
and  wept,  thinking  of  nothing  but  my  sorrow. 

When  we  went  out  to  seat  ourselves  in  the  vehicles, 
the  annoying  manorial  servants  followed  to  bid  us  good- 
bye. Their  "  Please,  your  hand,  sir,"  their  smacking  kisses 
on  the  shoulder,  and  the  odour  of  lard  from  their  heads 
provoked  in  me  a  feeling  very  much  akin  to  disgust. 
Under  the  influence  of  that  feeling  I  very  coldly  kissed 
Natalya  Savishna's  cap,  while  she,  all  in  tears,  bade  me 
farewell. 

It  is  strange,  but  I  see  all  tlie  faces  of  the  servants  as 
if  it  had  happened  to-day,  and  I  could  paint  them  with 


58  CHILDHOOD 

their  minutest  details,  but  manima'^  face  and  location 
have  absolutely  escaped  from  my  imagination,  —  perhaps, 
because  at  that  time  I  could  not  gather  courage  to  take 
one  good  look  at  her.  It  then  seemed  to  me  that  if  I 
were  to  do  so,  my  grief  and  hers  would  reach  impossible 
limits. 

I  rushed  before  the  others  to  the  carriage  and  seated 
myself  in  the  back  seat  As  the  top  was  raised,  I  could 
not  see  anything,  but  a  certain  instinct  told  me  that 
mamma  was  still  there. 

"  Shall  I  take  one  more  glance  at  her,  or  not  ?  Well, 
for  the  last  time  ! "  said  I  to  myself,  and  put  my  head  out 
of  the  carriage  toward  the  veranda.  Just  at  that  time, 
mamma,  with  the  same  thought,  had  come  up  from  the 
opposite  side  to  the  carriage,  and  was  calling  me  by  name. 
When  I  heard  her  voice  behind  me,  I  turned  toward  her, 
but  did  it  so  rapidly  that  we  knocked  our  heads  together : 
she  smiled  sadly,  and  for  the  last  time  gave  me  a  tight 
embrace  and  a  kiss. 

When  we  had  moved  away  a  few  fathoms,  I  decided 
to  look  at  her.  The  wind  had  raised  the  blue  kerchief 
with  which  her  head  was  tied ;  dropping  her  head  and 
covering  her  face  with  her  hands,  she  slowly  walked  up 
the  veranda.     Foka  was  sustaining  her. 

Papa  was  seated  by  my  side,  but  he  did  not  say  any- 
thing. I  choked  with  tears,  and  something  so  compressed 
my  throat  that  I  was  afraid  I  would  strangle.  When  we 
drove  out  on  the  highway,  we  saw  a  white  handkerchief 
which  some  one  on  the  balcony  was  waving.  I  began  to 
wave  mine,  and  this  motion  calmed  me  a  little.  I  con- 
tinued to  sob,  and  the  thought  that  my  tears  were  a  proof 
of  my  sensitiveness  gave  me  pleasure  and  joy. 

When  we  had  travelled  about  a  verst,  I  sat  down  more 
calmly,  and  I  began  to  look  with  stubborn  attention  at 
the  nearest  object  before  my  eyes,  —  the  hind  part  of  the 
side  horse  that  ran  on  my  side.     I  watched  that  dappled 


THE   SEPAKATION  59 

horse  flapping  liis  tail,  and  striking  one  leg  against  another, 
which  made  the  driver  crack  his  plaited  whip  at  him,  and 
then  his  legs  began  to  move  more  evenly.  I  saw  the 
harness  leaping  about,  and  the  rings  upon  it,  and  I  kept 
on  looking  at  the  harness  until  it  became  lathered  at  the 
tail.  I  began  to  look  around  me  :  at  the  waving  fields  of 
ripe  rye ;  at  the  dark  fallow  field  on  which  here  and  there 
a  plow,  a  peasant,  and  a  mare  with  her  colt  could  be  seen  ; 
at  the  verst  posts,  and  even  at  the  coachman's  box,  in  or- 
der to  see  who  the  driver  was.  My  face  was  not  yet  dry 
from  its  tears,  when  my  thoughts  were  far  away  from  my 
mother,  whom  I  had  left,  perhaps,  for  ever.  But  every 
reminiscence  led  my  thoughts  to  her.  I  recalled  the 
mushroom  which  I  had  found  the  day  before  in  the  avenue 
of  birches ;  I  recalled  how  Lyiibochka  and  Katenka  dis- 
puted who  was  to  pluck  it,  and  I  recalled  how  they  wept 
when  they  bade  us  farewell. 

"  I  am  sorry  to  leave  them,  and  I  am  sorry  for  Natalya 
Savishna,  and  for  the  birch  avenue,  and  for  Foka  !  I  am 
sorry  to  leave  even  growling  Mimi.  I  am  sorry  for 
everytliing,  for  everything!  And  poor  mamma!"  And 
tears  again  stood  in  my  eyes,  but  not  for  long. 


XV. 

CHILDHOOD 

Happy,  happy,  irretrievable  period  of  childhood !  How 
can  one  help  loving  and  cherishing  its  memories  ?  These 
memories  refresh  and  elevate  my  soul  and  serve  me  as  a 
source  of  my  best  enjoyments. 

I  remember  how,  having  frisked  about  until  tired,  I  sat  at 
the  tea  table  in  my  high  chair.  It  was  late.  I  had  long 
ago  drunk  my  cup  of  milk  and  sugar ;  sleep  closed  my 
eyes,  but  I  did  not  budge  from  the  place,  and  remained 
there  and  listened.  How-  could  I  help  listening  ?  Mamma 
was  speaking  to  somebody,  and  the  sounds  of  her  voice 
were  so  sweet  and  so  charming.  Those  sounds  alone 
spoke  so  eloquently  to  my  heart !  With  eyes  dimmed  by 
sleepiness  I  looked  fixedly  at  her  face,  and  suddenly  she 
grew  so  small,  so  very  small,  —  her  face  was  not  larger 
than  a  button,  but  I  saw  it  just  as  plainly.  I  saw  her 
looking  at  me  and  smiling.  I  liked  to  see  her  so  tiny.  I 
blinked  my  eyes  even  more,  and  she  became  not  larger 
than  those  httle  men  one  sees  in  the  pupil  of  the  eye.  I 
moved,  and  the  whole  charm  was  broken.  I  squinted, 
turned  around,  and  in  every  manner  possible  tried  to  re- 
new it,  —  it  was  all  in  vain. 

I  rose,  scampered  away,  and  comfortably  lodged  myself 
in  an  armchair. 

"  You  will  fall  asleep  again,  Nikdlenka ! "  said  mamma  : 
"  you  had  better  go  up-stairs." 

"  I  do  not  want  to  sleep,  mamma,"  I  answered  her,  and 

GO 


CHILDHOOD 


61 


indistinct,  though  sweet,  dreams  filled  my  imagination.  A 
healthy  childish  sleep  closed  my  eyelids,  and  a  few  min- 
utes later  I  lost  consciousness  and  slept  until  I  was  awak- 
ened. In  my  waking  moments  I  felt  somebody's  hand 
touching  me :  by  the  touch  alone  I  could  tell  her,  even 
in  my  sleep,  and  I  involuntarily  caught  that  hand  and 
pressed  it  hard,  very  hard  to  my  lips. 

Everybody  had  left;  one  candle  was  burning  in  the 
sitting-room ;  mamma  had  said  that  she  would  wake  me 
herself.  It  was  she  who  seated  herself  on  the  chair  upon 
which  I  was  asleep,  and  with  her  lovely,  tender  hand 
patted  my  hair.  Over  my  ear  was  heard  the  famihar 
voice : 

"  Get  up,  my  darling,  it  is  time  to  go  to  bed." 

No  indifferent  looks  embarrassed  her :  she  was  not 
afraid  to  pour  out  all  her  tenderness  and  love  on  me.  I 
did  not  stir,  but  kissed  her  hand  even  harder. 

"  Do  get  up,  my  angel !  " 

She  touched  my  neck  with  her  other  hand,  and  her 
soft  fingers  moved  about  and  tickled  me.  It  was  quiet 
and  half-dark  in  the  room ;  my  nerves  were  aroused  by 
the  tickling  and  by  the  waking.  Mamma  was  sitting 
close  to  me ;  she  touched  me ;  I  scented  her  odour,  and 
heard  her  voice.  All  that  caused  me  to  leap  up,  to  em- 
brace her  neck  with  both  my  hands,  to  press  my  head  to 
her  breast,  and,  breathing  heavily,  to  say  : 

"  Oh,  my  dear,  dear  mother,  how  I  love  you  ! " 

She  smiled  a  sad,  bewitching  smile,  took  my  head  into 
both  her  hands,  kissed  my  brow,  and  placed  me  upon  her 
knees. 

"  So  you  love  me  very  much  ? "  She  was  silent  for  a 
moment,  then  she  said:  "Kemember,  you  must  always 
love  me ;  you  must  never  forget  me !  You  will  not  for- 
get vour  mamma  when  she  is  no  more  ?  You  will  not, 
Nikolenka  ? " 

She  kissed  me  more  tenderly  yet. 


62  CHILDHOOD 

"  Stop,  don't  say  that,  my  darling,  my  sweetheart ! "  I 
called  out,  kissing  her  knees,  and  tears  ran  in  streams 
from  my  eyes,  —  tears  of  love  and  ecstasy. 

When,  after  such  a  scene,  I  came  up-stairs  and  stood 
in  my  wadded  cloak  before  the  holy  images,  what  a  won- 
derful feeling  I  experienced  at  the  words,  "Preserve,  0 
Lord,  father  and  mother  !  "  When,  in  such  moments,  I 
repeated  the  prayers  which  my  childish  lips  for  the  first 
time  lisped  after  my  beloved  mother,  my  love  for  her  and 
my  love  for  God  were  strangely  mingled  in  one  feeling. 

After  the  prayer  I  rolled  myself  into  my  coverlet,  and 
my  heart  felt  light  and  cheerful.  One  dream  chased 
another,  —  but  what  were  they  about  ?  They  were  in- 
tangible, but  filled  with  pure  love  and  hope  for  bright 
happiness.  I  thought  of  Karl  Ivanovich  and  his  bitter 
fate,  —  of  the  only  man  whom  I  knew  to  be  unhappy,  and 
I  felt  so  sorry  for  him,  and  so  loved  him,  that  the  tears 
gushed  from  my  eyes,  and  I  thought :  God  grant  him  hap- 
piness, and  me  an  opportunity  of  helping  him,  and  allevi- 
ating his  sorrow ;  I  was  ready  to  sacrifice  everything  for 
him.  Then  I  stuck  my  favourite  china  toy,  —  a  hare  or 
a  dog,  —  into  the  corner  of  the  down  pillow,  and  I  was 
happy  seeing  how  comfortable  and  snug  the  toy  was 
there.  I  also  prayed  the  Lord  that  He  would  give  happi- 
ness to  everybody,  and  that  all  should  be  satisfied,  and 
that  to-morrow  should  be  good  weather  for  the  outing, 
and  then  I  turned  on  my  other  side,  my  thoughts  and 
dreams  became  mixed  and  disturbed,  and  I  fell  softly, 
(piietly  asleep,  my  face  wet  with  tears. 

Will  that  freshness,  carelessness,  need  of  love,  and 
strength  of  faith,  which  one  possesses  in  childhood,  ever 
return  ?  What  time  can  be  better  than  that  when  all  the 
best  virtues,  —  innocent  merriment  and  limitless  need  of 
love,  —  are  the  only  incitements  in  hfe  ? 

Where  are  all  those  ardent  prayers,  where  is  the  best 
gift  —  those  tears  of   contrition  ?     The  consoling  angel 


CHILDHOOD  63 

came  on  his  pinions,  witli  a  smile  wiped  off  those  tears, 
and  fanned  sweet  dreams  to  the  uncorrupted  imagination 
of  the  child. 

Is  it  possible  life  has  left  such  heavy  traces  in  my 
heart  that  these  tears  and  that  ecstasy  have  for  ever  gone 
from  me  ?     Is  it  possible,  nothing  but  memories  are  left  ? 


XVI. 

POETKY 

Almost  a  mouth  after  we  had  settled  in  Moscow, 
I  was  sitting  at  a  large  table  up-stairs,  in  grandmother's 
house,  and  writing.  Our  teacher  of  drawing  sat  opposite 
me,  and  gave  a  final  touch  to  the  head  of  a  turbaned 
Turk,  drawn  with  a  black  crayon.  Volddya,  standing  be- 
hind the  teacher,  craned  his  neck  and  looked  over  his 
shoulder.  This  head  was  Volddya's  first  production  in 
black  crayon,  and  it  was  that  very  day  to  be  presented  to 
grandmother,  it  being  her  name  day. 

"  And  won't  you  throw  some  shadows  here  ? "  said 
Volddya  to  the  teacher,  rising  on  tiptoes,  and  pointing  to 
the  Turk's  neck. 

"  No,  it  is  not  necessary,"  said  the  teacher,  putting  away 
the  crayons  and  the  drawing-pen  in  a  box  with  a  sliding 
lid.  "  It  is  all  right  this  way,  and  don't  touch  it  again. 
Well,  and  you,  Nikdlenka,"  he  added,  rising,  and  still 
looking  sidewise  at  the  Turk,  "  tell  us,  at  last,  your  secret ; 
what  are  you  going  to  offer  to  grandmother  ?  Eeally,  it 
would  be  well  if  you,  too,  gave  her  a  head.  Good-bye, 
young  gentlemen  ! "  He  took  his  hat  and  a  ticket,  and 
went  out. 

That  moment  I  thought  myself  that  a  head  would  be  bet- 
ter than  what  I  was  working  on.  When  we  were  told  that 
grandmother's  name  day  would  come  soon,  and  that  we 
ought  to  prepare  some  presents  for  that  day,  it  occurred  tome 
to  write  verses  for  the  occasion,  and  I  immediately  picked 

64 


POETRY  65 

out  two  lines  with  a  rhyme,  and  hoped  shortly  to  find 
the  rest.  I  absolutely  cannot  remember  how  such  a 
strange  idea,  for  a  child,  could  have  got  into  my  head, 
but  I  recall  that  it  gave  me  pleasure,  and  that  to  all  ques- 
tions about  the  matter,  I  answered  that  I  should  not  fail 
to  offer  grandmother  a  present,  but  that  I  should  not  tell 
anybody  what  it  was. 

Contrary  to  my  expectation,  it  soon  appeared  that,  in 
spite  of  all  my  efforts,  I  was  not  able  to  find  any  other 
verses  except  the  two  lines  which  I  had  made  up  on  the 
spur  of  the  moment.  I  began  to  read  the  poems  that 
were  in  our  readers,  but  neither  Dmitriev,  nor  Derzhaviu 
helped  me  at  all !  On  the  contrary,  they  only  convinced 
me  of  my  incapacity.  As  I  knew  that  Karl  Ivanovich 
was  fond  of  copying  poems,  I  began  quietly  to  rum- 
mage through  his  papers,  and  among  his  German  poems 
found  one  Russian  lyric,  which,  no  doubt,  belonged  to  his 
own  pen. 

To  Madam  L.  .  .  Petrovski,  1828,  3  juni. 
Remember  me  near, 
Remember  me  far, 
Remember  my 
Even  from  now  up  to  ever, 
Remember  me  to  my  grave, 
How  faithful  I  cap  love. 

—  Karl  Matter. 

This  poem,  written  in  a  beautiful,  round  hand,  on  thin 
letter-paper,  took  my  fancy  on  account  of  the  stirring 
feehng  which  pervaded  it.  I  immediately  learned  it  by 
rote,  and  decided  to  take  it  for  my  model.  Things  now 
went  much  easier.  On  the  name  day  my  greeting,  con- 
sisting of  twelve  lines,  was  ready,  and,  seating  myself  at 
the  table  in  the  class-room,  I  copied  it  on  vellum  paper. 

Two  sheets  of  paper  were  already  spoiled,  —  not  that  I 
wished  to  change  something,  the  verses  seemed  perfect  to 


66  CHILDHOOD 

me,  but  beginning  with  the  third  line,  the  ends  of  the 
verses  began  to  turn  upwards  more  and  more,  so  that  one 
could  see,  even  from  a  distance,  that  they  were  written 
crooked,  and  that  they  were  not  good  for  anything. 

The  third  sheet  was  just  as  crooked  as  the  other  two, 
but  I  decided  not  to  copy  it  again.  In  my  poem  I  con- 
gratulated grandmother,  and  wished  her  to  live  long,  and 
finished  as  follows : 

We  will  try  never  to  bother, 

And  wiil  love  you  like  our  own  mother. 

It  did  not  look  so  bad,  after  all,  only  the  last  verse 
strangely  offended  my  ear. 

"  And  will  love  you  like  our  own  mother,"  mumbled  I. 
"  What  other  rhyme  could  I  get  for  mother  ?  other  ? 
smother  ?  Oh,  well,  it  will  pass  anyway  ;  it  is  not  worse 
than  the  verses  of  Karl  Ivanovich." 

I  wrote  down  the  last  verse.  Then  I  read  aloud  my 
production,  with  feeling  and  expression,  in  the  sleeping- 
room.  There  were  lines  without  any  measure,  and  that 
did  not  disconcert  me ;  but  the  last  verse  struck  me  more 
unpleasantly  still.  I  sat  down  on  my  bed,  and  fell  to 
musing. 

"  Why  did  I  write  like  our  ovjn  mother  ?  She  was 
not  here,  so  I  ought  not  even  to  have  mentioned  her.  It 
is  true,  I  love  grandmother,  and  I  respect  her,  but  still, 
it  is  not  the  same  —  why  did  I  write  that,  why  did  I 
lie  ?  To  be  sure  this  was  a  poem,  still  I  ought  not  to 
have  done  so." 

Just  then  the  tailor  entered,  and  brought  the  new  half- 
frock  coats. 

"  Well,  it  wiU  have  to  remain  that  way ! "  said  I,  in 
great  impatience,  as  I  angrily  shoved  the  poem  under  the 
pillow,  and  ran  away  to  try  on  the  Moscow  clothes. 

The  Moscow  clothes  turned  out  to  be  a  fine  affair :  the 


POETRY  67 

cinnamou-coloured  half-frocks,  with  their  brass  buttons, 
were  closely  fitting,  —  not  as  they  used  to  make  them  in 
the  country  for  us,  by  sizes ;  the  black  trousers,  tightly 
fitting,  too,  wonderfully  showed  the  muscles,  and  hung 
over  the  boots. 

"  At  last  I  myself  have  pantaloons  with  foot  straps, 
and  real  ones ! "  I  thought  and,  beside  myself  with 
pleasure,  examined  my  legs  on  all  sides.  Although  the 
trousers  were  dreadfully  tight,  and  I  felt  uncomfortable 
in  my  new  suit,  I  did  not  mention  it  to  anybody,  but,  on 
the  contrary,  said  that  I  felt  quite  at  ease,  and,  if  there 
was  any  fault  in  the  suit,  it  was,  that  it  was  too  loose. 
After  that  I  stood  for  a  long  time  before  the  looking- 
glass,  combing  my  copiously  waxed  hair.  No  matter 
how  much  I  tried,  I  could  not  smooth  down  the  tufts  on 
my  crown  :  the  moment  I  wanted  to  experiment  on  their 
docility,  and  stopped  pressing  them  down  with  the  brush, 
they  rose  and  towered  in  all  directions,  giving  my  face  an 
exceedingly  funny  expression. 

Karl  Ivanovich  was  dressing  in  the  next  room,  and 
they  carried  through  the  class-room  a  blue  dress  coat  to 
him,  and  with  it  some  white  appurtenances.  At  the  door 
that  led  down-stairs  was  heard  the  voice  of  one  of  grand- 
mother's chambermaids :  I  went  out  to  discover  what  she 
wanted.  She  was  holding  in  her  hand  a  stiffly  ironed 
shirt-front,  and  told  me  that  she  had  brought  it  for  Karl 
Ivanovich,  and  that  she  had  not  slept  that  night,  in  order 
to  2et  it  washed  in  time.  I  undertook  to  hand  him  the 
shirt-front,  and  asked  whether  grandmother  had  risen. 

"  Indeed,  sir !  She  has  already  had  her  coffee,  and  the 
protopope  has  come.  How  fine  you  look!"  she  added, 
smiling,  and  surveying  my  new  garments. 

This  remark  made  me  blush.  I  turned  around  on  one 
foot,  clicked  my  fingers,  and  leaped  up,  to  let  her  feel 
that  she  did  not  know  yet  what  a  fine  fellow  I  really 
was. 


68  CHILDHOOD 

When  I  brought  the  shirt-front  to  Karl  Ivanovich,  he 
did  not  need  it  any  longer :  he  had  put  on  another,  and, 
bending  over  a  small  looking-glass,  which  stood  on  a 
table,  was  holding  the  superb  tie  of  his  cravat  in  his 
hands,  and  trying  whether  his  smoothly  shaven  chin 
would  freely  go  into  it  and  come  out  again.  Having 
pulled  our  garments  into  shape,  and  having  asked  Nikolay 
to  do  the  same  for  him,  he  took  us  to  grandmother.  I 
have  to  laugh  when  I  think  how  strongly  all  three  of  us 
smelled  of  pomatum,  as  we  descended  the  staircase. 

Karl  Ivanovich  had  in  his  hands  a  small  box  of  his 
own  make ;  Volddya  had  the  drawing,  and  I  the  poem. 
We  all  had  on  our  tongue  a  greeting  with  which  we  were 
to  offer  our  presents.  Just  as  Karl  Ivanovich  opened  tlie 
door  of  the  parlour,  the  clergyman  was  putting  on  his 
vestments,  and  the  first  sounds  of  the  mass  were  heard. 

Grandmother  was  in  the  parlour  already :  bending  and 
leaning  over  the  arm  of  a  chair,  she  was  standing  at  the 
wall  and  praying  fervently.  Papa  stood  near  her.  She 
turned  around  to  us  and  smiled,  wlieu  she  noticed  that 
we  were  hiding  behind  our  backs  the  presents  which  we 
were  to  offer,  and  that  we  had  stopped  at  the  door,  in  our 
desire  not  to  observed.  All  the  effect  of  surprise,  on 
which  we  had  been  counting,  was  lost. 

When  the  blessing  with  the  cross  began,  I  suddenly 
felt  that  I  was  under  the  oppressive  influence  of  an  incon- 
querable,  stupefying  timidity,  and,  feeling  that  I  should 
never  have  enough  courage  to  make  my  offering  to  her, 
I  hid  behind  Karl  Ivanovich's  back.  He  congratulated 
grandmother  in  the  choicest  of  expressions,  and,  trans- 
ferring the  box  from  his  right  hand  to  his  left,  handed  it 
to  her,  and  walked  off  a  few  steps,  in  order  to  give  Volodya 
a  chance.  Grandmother,  so  it  seemed,  was  delighted  with 
the  box,  which  was  bordered  with  gold  paper,  and  ex- 
pressed her  thanks  to  him  with  a  most  gracious  smile. 
It  was,  however,  evident  that  she  did  not  know  where  to 


POETRY  69 

place  the  box,  and,  probably  for  that  reason,  asked  papa 
to  see  with  what  remarkable  skill  it  was  made. 

Having  satisfied  his  curiosity,  papa  handed  it  to  the 
protopope  who,  it  seemed,  took  a  liking  to  the  thing :  he 
shook  his  head,  and  now  looked  at  the  box,  and  now  at 
the  master  who  had  managed  to  produce  such  a  beautiful 
object.  Volddya  offered  his  Turk,  and  he  also  was  the 
recipient  of  the  most  flattering  praise  on  all  sides.  Then 
came  my  turn :  grandmother  turned  to  me  with  a  smile 
of  encouragement. 

Those  who  have  experienced  bashfulness,  know  that 
the  feehng  increases  in  direct  proportion  with  time,  and 
that  decision  diminishes  in  the  same  proportion  ;  that  is, 
the  longer  that  condition  lasts,  the  harder  it  is  to  over- 
come the  bashfulness,  and  the  less  there  is  left  of  decision. 

My  last  courage  and  decision  left  me  when  Karl  Ivauo- 
vich  and  Volodya  made  their  offerings,  and  my  bashful- 
ness reached  its  extreme  limits  :  I  felt  my  heart-blood 
continually  coursing  to  my  head,  my  face  alternately 
changing  colour,  and  large  drops  of  perspiration  oozing  on 
my  forehead  and  nose.  My  ears  were  burning ;  I  felt  a 
chill  and  a  perspiration  over  my  whole  body  ;  I  stood  now 
on  one  foot,  now  on  another,  and  I  did  not  budge  from 
the  spot. 

"  Well,  do  show  us,  Nikolenka  !  What  is  it  you  have, 
a  box  or  a  drawing  ? "  said  papa  to  me.  There  was  noth- 
ing to  be  done ;  with  a  trembhng  hand  I  gave  her  the 
crushed,  fatal  roll ;  but  my  voice  refused  to  serve  me,  and 
I  stopped  silent  before  grandmother.  I  was  beside  my,self, 
thinking  that,  instead  of  the  expected  drawing,  they  would 
read  aloud  my  worthless  poem  and  the  words  like  my 
own  mother  which  would  be  a  clear  proof  that  I  had 
never  loved  her,  and  that  I  had  forgotten  her.  How  am 
I  to  tell  the  agony  through  which  I  passed,  when  grand- 
mother began  to  read  aloud  my  poem ;  when,  unable  to 
make  it  out,  she  stopped  in  the  middle  of  the  verse,  in 


70  CHILDHOOD 

order  to  look  at  papa  with  a  smile,  which  then  seemed  to 
me  to  be  one  of  mockery ;  when  she  pronounced  it  differ- 
ently from  what  I  had  intended  it ;  and  when,  her  eyes 
being  weak,  she  did  not  tinish  reading  it,  but  handed  it 
to  papa  and  asked  him  to  read  it  from  the  beginning  ?  It 
seemed  to  me  that  she  did  so  because  she  was  tired  of 
reading  such  horrible  and  badly  scrawled  verses,  and  be- 
cause she  wanted  papa  to  read  the  last  line,  which  was 
such  an  evident  proof  of  my  heartlessness.  I  was  waiting 
for  him  to  snap  my  nose  with  the  poem,  and  to  say : 
"  Naughty  boy  !  Do  not  forget  your  mother !  Take  this 
for  it ! "  But  nothing  of  the  kind  happened  ;  on  the  con- 
trary, after  it  had  been  read,  grandmother  said :  "  Char- 
mant !  "  and  kissed  my  brow. 

The  box,  the  drawing,  and  the  poem  were  put,  by  the 
side  of  two  batiste  handkerchiefs  and  a  snuff-box  with 
mamma's  portrait,  on  a  sort  of  extension  table  connected 
with  the  armchair  in  which  grandmother  always  sat. 

"  Princess  Varvara  Ilinichna,"  announced  one  of  the 
two  huge  lackeys  who  stood  in  the  back  of  grandmother's 
carriage. 

Grandmother  was  deep  in  thought  over  the  portrait, 
which  was  fastened  to  the  shell  snuff-box,  and  did  not 
answer. 

"  Does  your  Grace  command  to  ask  her  in  ? "  repeated 
the  lackey. 


XVII. 

PRINCESS    KORNAKOV 

"  Ask  her  in,"  said  grandmother,  seating  herself  deeper 
in  the  chair. 

The  princess  was  a  woman  about  forty-five  years  of 
age,  small  of  stature,  sickly,  lean,  and  bilious,  with  grayish 
green,  disagreeable  little  eyes,  the  expression  of  which 
clearly  contradicted  the  unnaturally  sweet  curves  of  her 
mouth.  Underneath  a  velvet  hat  with  an  ostrich  feather 
could  be  seen  her  bright  red  hair ;  her  eyebrows  and  eye- 
lashes appeared  even  brighter  and  redder  on  the  sickly 
colour  of  her  face.  In  spite  of  aU  this,  she  gave  a  gen- 
eral impression  of  generosity  and  energy,  thanks  to  her 
unaffected  movements,  her  tiny  hands,  and  the  peculiar 
leanness  of  all  her  features. 

The  princess  talked  a  great  deal,  and  by  reason  of  her 
talkativeness  belonged  to  that  class  of  people  who  are 
always  speaking  as  though  some  one  were  contradicting 
them,  although  not  a  word  is  said.  She  now  raised  her 
voice,  now  gradually  lowered  it  in  order  to  burst  forth 
with  new  vivacity,  and  glanced  at  her  silent  listeners,  as 
if  trying  to  strengthen  herself  by  that  glance. 

Though  the  princess  had  kissed  grandmother's  hand, 
and  continually  called  her  ma  honne  tante,  I  noticed  that 
grandmother  was  not  satisfied  with  her ;  she  raised  her 
brows  in  a  peculiar  manner,  as  she  listened  to  the  reason 
why  Prince  Mikhaylo  was  absolutely  unable  to  come  to 
congratulate  grandmother,  though  he  wished  very  much 

71 


72  CHILDHOOD 

to  do  so,  and,  aDSvvering  in  Russian  to  the  French  speech 
of  the  princess,  she  said,  dwelling  with  emphasis  on  her 
words : 

"  I  thank  you  very  nuich,  my  dear,  for  your  attention, 
but  as  to  Prince  Mikhaylo  not  being  able  to  come,  what 
is  the  use  mentioning  it  ?  He  has  always  a  great  deal  to 
do.  And  what  pleasure  could  it  be  for  him  to  sit  down 
with  an  old  woman  ?  " 

And,  not  giving  the  princess  a  chance  to  contradict 
her  words,  she  continued  : 

"  Tell  me,  how  are  your  children,  my  dear  ? " 

"  The  Lord  be  praised,  ma  tante,  they  are  growing, 
studying,  and  having  a  good  time  —  especially  Etienne, 
the  eldest,  is  getting  to  be  so  mischievous  that  there  is 
no  getting  on  with  him  ;  but  he  is  bright,  iin  garqon 
qui  promet.  Just  imagine,  mon  coiisioi,"  she  continued, 
turning  exclusively  to  papa,  because  grandmother,  who 
was  not  in  the  least  interested  in  the  children  of  the 
princess,  but  wanted  to  praise  her  own  grandchildren, 
carefully  took  my  poem  from  under  the  box,  and  began 
to  unfold  the  paper :  "  Just  imagine,  7non  cousin,  what 
he  did  a  few  days  ago  —  " 

The  princess  leaned  over  to  papa,  and  began  to  tell 
him  something  with  great  animation.  Having  finished 
her  story,  which  I  did  not  hear,  she  burst  out  laughing 
and,  looking  interrogatively  at  papa,  said  : 

"  What  do  you  think  of  that  boy,  mon  cousin  ?  He 
deserved  a  whipping ;  but  that  trick  of  his  was  so  bright 
and  amusing,  that  I  forgave  him,  'mon  cousin." 

And  the  princess  fixed  her  eyes  upon  grandmother, 
and  continued  to  smile,  without  saying  anything. 

"  Do  you  heat  your  children,  my  dear  ? "  asked  grand- 
mother, significantly  raising  her  eyebrows,  and  emphasi- 
zing the  word  heat. 

"  Oh,  7Jia  honnc  tante"  answered  the  princess  in  a  kind 
voice,  casting  a  rapid  glance  upon  papa,    "  I  know  your 


PRINCESS    KORNAKOV  73 

opinion  in  regard  to  this  matter,  but  permit  me  to  dis- 
agree with  you  in  this  only :  however  much  I  have 
thought,  or  read,  or  consulted  about  the  question,  my  ex- 
perience has  brought  me  to  the  conviction  that  it  is  nec- 
essary to  act  upon  children  through  fear.  To  make 
anything  of  a  child,  you  need  fear  —  am  I  not  right,  mon 
cousin  /  And  what  is  it,  je  vous  demande  un  peu,  chil- 
dren fear  more  than  the  rod  ? " 

Saying  this,  she  looked  interrogatively  at  us,  and,  I 
must  confess,  I  felt  very  ill  at  ease  during  that  moment. 

"  Say  what  you  may,  a  boy  up  to  twelve  and  even 
fourteen  years  of  age  is  a  child.  With  girls  it  is  a  differ- 
ent matter." 

"  Yes,  that  is  very  nice,  my  dear,"  said  grandmother, 
folding  my  poem  and  replacing  it  under  the  box,  as  if 
she  did  not  regard  the  princess,  after  these  words,  worthy 
of  hearing  such  a  production.  "  That  is  very  nice,  only, 
please,  tell  me,  what  refined  feelings  can  you  after  that 
expect  of  your  children  ?  " 

And,  regarding  this  argument  as  incontrovertible,  grand- 
mother added,  in  order  to  break  off  the  conversation  : 

"  However,  everybody  has  his  own  opinion  upon  that 
matter." 

The  princess  did  not  answer,  and  only  smiled  conde- 
scendingly, wishing  thus  to  say  that  she  forgave  this 
queer  prejudice  in  a  person  whom  she  respected  so  much. 

"  Ah,  introduce  me  to  your  young  people,"  said  she, 
looking  at  us  and  smiHng  politely. 

We  rose,  and,  fixing  our  eyes  upon  the  face  of  the 
princess,  did  not  know  in  the  least  what  to  do  in  order 
to  prove  that  we  had  become  acquainted. 

"  Kiss  the  hand  of  the  princess,"  said  papa. 

"  I  ask  you  to  love  your  old  aunt,"  said  she,  kissing 
Volodya's  hair.  "  Though  I  am  but  distantly  related  to 
you,  I  count  not  by  degrees  of  relationship,  but  by  ties  of 
friendship,"  she  added,  speaking  more  especially  to  grand- 


74  CHILDHOOD 

mother,  but  grandmother  was  still  dissatisfied  with  her, 
and  said : 

"  Ah,  my  dear,  do  we  nowadays  count  such  relation- 
ship ? " 

"  This  one  will  be  a  worldly  young  man,"  said  papa, 
pointing  to  Volodya,  "and  this  one  a  poet,"  he  added, 
while  I  was  kissing  the  small  dry  hand  of  the  princess, 
and  with  extraordinary  distinctness  imagined  a  switch  in 
that  hand,  and  under  the  switch  a  bench,  and  so  forth. 

"  Which  one  ? "  asked  the  princess,  keeping  hold  of  my 
hand. 

"  This  one,  the  little  fellow  with  the  locks,"  answered 
papa,  smiling  merrily. 

"  What  have  my  locks  done  to  him  ?  Has  he  nothing 
else  to  talk  about  ? "  thought  I,  and  went  into  the  corner. 

I  had  the  oddest  conceptions  of  beauty,  —  I  even 
regarded  Karl  Ivanovich  as  the  first  beau  in  the  world ; 
but  I  knew  full  well  that  I  was  not  good-looking,  and  in 
this  opinion  was  not  mistaken.  Therefore,  every  reference 
to  my  looks  was  offensive  to  me. 

I  remember  very  well  how  once  at  dinner,  —  I  was  then 
six  years  old,  —  they  were  speaking  of  my  exterior,  and 
mamma  was  trying  to  find  something  comely  in  my  face. 
She  said  that  I  had  bright  eyes  and  a  pleasant  smile,  and, 
finally,  yielding  to  father's  proofs  and  to  evidence,  was 
compelled  to  admit  that  I  was  homely.  Later,  when  I 
thanked  her  for  the  dinner,  she  patted  my  cheek,  and 
said : 

"  Know  this  much,  Nikdlenka,  no  one  will  love  you  for 
your  face,  so  you  must  try  and  be  a  good  and  clever  boy." 

These  words  not  only  convinced  me  that  I  was  not 
handsome,  but  also  that  I  must  try  by  all  means  to  be  a 
good  and  clever  boy. 

In  spite  of  this,  moments  of  despair  frequently  came 
over  me.  I  imagined  that  there  was  no  happiness  in  the 
world  for  a  man  with  such  a  broad  nose,  fat  lips,  and 


PRINCESS    KORNAKOV  75 

small  gray  eyes,  as  miue  were.  I  asked  God  to  do  a 
miracle,  and  to  change  me  into  a  handsome  boy,  and 
everything  I  then  had,  and  everything  I  should  ever  have 
in  the  future,  I  would  gladly  have  given  for  a  pretty  face. 


XVITT. 

PRINCE    IVAN    IVANOVICH 

When  the  princess  had  listened  to  the  poem  and  had 
sliuNvered  praises  on  the  author,  grandmother  softened, 
began  to  speak  in  French  with  her,  stopped  calling  her 
"  3"ou,  my  dear,"  and  invited  her  to  visit  us  in  the  evening 
with  all  her  children.  The  princess  promised  she  would, 
and,  after  staying  awhile,  departed. 

There  came  so  many  guests  that  day  to  congratulate 
grandmother  that  in  the  courtyard,  near  the  entrance, 
there  were  always  several  carriages  standing,  the  wliole 
morning. 

"  Bonjour,  chere  cousine,"  said  one  of  the  guests  as  he 
entered  the  room  and  kissed  gi-andmother's  hand. 

He  was  a  man  of  some  seventy  years  of  age,  of  tall 
stature,  in  a  military  uniform,  with  large  epaulets,  below 
the  collar  of  which  could  be  seen  a  large  white  cross,  and 
with  a  calm,  open  countenance.  I  was  struck  by  the 
freedom  and  simplicity  of  his  movements.  Although 
there  was  left  but  a  small  circle  of  scanty  hair  on  the 
back  of  his  head,  and  although  the  position  of  the  upper 
lip  gave  clear  evidence  of  the  absence  of  teeth,  his  face 
was  still  one  of  remarkable  beauty. 

Prhice  Ivan  Ivanovich  had,  while  still  very  young, 
made  a  brilliant  career  at  the  end  of  the  last  century, 
thanks  to  his  noble  character,  fine  looks,  remarkable 
bravery,    distinguished    and   powerful    connections,    and, 

76 


PEINCE    IVAN    IVANOVICH  •     77 

especially,  luck.  He  remained  in  the  service,  and  his 
ambition  was  soon  so  well  satisfied,  that  there  was 
nothing  more  for  him  to  wish  in  that  respect.  He  had 
carried  himself  from  his  very  youth  as  if  he  had  been 
preparing  himself  to  occupy  that  illustrious  place  in  the 
world  where  fate  had  later  put  him.  Therefore,  although 
in  his  brilhant  and  somewhat  vain  life,  as  in  all  other 
hves,  there  were  annoyances,  disappointments  and  failures, 
he  not  even  once  was  false  to  his  ever  calm  character,  nor 
to  his  high  ideals,  nor  to  the  fundamental  tenets  of  relig- 
ion and  morality,  and  he  earned  universal  respect  not 
only  on  the  basis  of  his  high  position,  but  on  the  basis 
also  of  his  consistency  and  fortitude. 

He  was  a  man  of  mediocre  mind,  but,  thanks  to  his 
position,  which  permitted  him  to  look  with  disdain  at  all 
the  vain  tribulations  of  life,  his  ideals  were  of  an  elevated 
character.  He  was  good  and  sympathetic,  but  somewhat 
cold  and  haughty  in  manner.  That  came  from  his  being 
placed  in  a  position  where  he  could  be  useful  to  many,  so 
that  by  his  coldness  he  endeavoured  to  guard  himself 
against  the  unrelenting  prayers  and  requests  of  people 
who  wished  to  make  use  of  his  influence.  His  coldness, 
however,  was  softened  by  the  condescending  civility  of  a 
man  of  the  great  world.  He  was  well  educated  and  well 
read ;  but  his  education  stopped  at  what  he  had  acquired 
in  youth,  that  is,  at  the  end  of  the  last  century.  He  had 
read  everything  worth  while  that  had  been  written  in 
France  during  the  eighteenth  century  in  the  field  of  phi- 
losophy and  eloquence,  knew  thoroughly  all  the  best  pro- 
ductions of  French  hterature,  so  that  he  could  and  did 
with  pleasure  quote  passages  from  Eacine,  Corneille, 
Boileau,  Molifere,  Montaigne,  F(^nelon ;  he  was  brilliantly 
versed  in  mythology,  and  with  benefit  had  studied,  in 
French  translations,  the  ancient  monuments  of  epic 
poetry ;  he  had  a  fair  knowledge  of  history,  which  he 
drew  from  S^gur ;  but  he  did  not  have  the  least  concep- 


78  CHILDHOOD 

tion  of  mathematics,  beyond  aritlimetic,  nor  of  physics, 
nor  of  contemporaneous  Kterature ;  he  could  in  a  conver- 
sation pohtely  suppress,  or  even  express,  a  few  common- 
places about  Goetlie,  Schiller,  and  Byron,  but  he  never 
had  read  them. 

In  spite  of  this  French  classical  education,  of  which 
there  are  but  few  examples  left  now,  his  conversation  was 
simple,  and  this  simplicity  at  the  same  time  hid  his  igno- 
rance of  certain  things,  and  also  gave  evidence  of  his 
agreeable  manner  and  indulgence.  He  was  a  great  enemy 
of  all  originality,  maintaining  that  originality  was  a  trick 
of  people  in  bad  society.  Society  was  a  matter  of  neces- 
sity to  him,  wherever  he  happened  to  be;  whether  in 
Moscow,  or  abroad,  he  always  lived  in  the  same  open 
fashion,  and  upon  certain  days  received  the  whole  city  at 
his  house.  The  prince  was  on  such  a  footing  in  the  city, 
that  an  invitation  from  him  could  serve  as  a  passport  into 
all  the  parlours,  that  many  young  and  beautiful  women 
gladly  offered  him  their  rosy  cheeks,  which  he  kissed,  as 
it  were,  with  the  feeling  of  a  father,  and  that  apparently 
distinguished  and  decent  people  expressed  indescribable 
joy  when  they  were  admitted  to  his  receptions. 

There  were  but  few  people  left  to  the  prince,  like  grand- 
mother, who  were  of  the  same  circle,  the  same  bringing 
up,  the  same  point  of  view,  and  the  same  age  with  him,  so 
he  particularly  valued  his  old  friendship  with  her,  and 
always  showed  her  great  respect. 

I  did  not  get  tired  looking  at  the  prince ;  the  respect 
which  everybody  showed  him,  the  large  epaulets,  the 
particular  joy  which  grandmother  expressed  upon  seeing 
him,  and  the  fact  that  he  alone,  evidently,  was  not  afraid 
of  her,  conversed  with  her  entirely  at  his  ease,  and  even 
had  the  courage  to  call  her  "  ma  cousine,"  inspired  in  me 
a  respect  for  him,  equal  to,  if  not  greater  than,  that  which 
I  felt  for  my  father.  When  they  showed  him  my  poem, 
he  called  me  to  him  and  said : 


PRINCE    IVAN    IVANOVICH  79 

"  Who  knows,  ma  cousine,  maybe  he  will  be  another 
Derzhavin." 

Saying  this,  he  gave  me  a  painful  pinch  in  my  cheek 
If  I  did  not  cry  out  loud,  it  was  only  because  I  decided 
to  take  it  as  a  favour. 

The  guests  departed,  papa  and  Volodya  went  out;  in 
the  drawing-room  were  left  the  prince,  grandmother, 
and  I. 

"  Why  did  not  our  dear  Natalya  Nikolaevna  come  ? " 
suddenly  asked  Prince  Ivan  Ivanovich,  after  a  moment's 
silence. 

"  Ah,  mon  cher  !  "  answered  grandmother,  lowering  her 
voice,  and  putting  her  hand  on  the  sleeve  of  his  uniform : 
"  She,  no  doubt,  would  have  come,  if  she  were  at  liberty 
to  do  what  she  pleases.  She  writes  me  that  Pierre  had 
proposed  her  going,  but  that  she  had  herself  declined 
because,  says  she,  they  had  had  no  income  this  year.  She 
writes,  'Besides,  I  have  no  reason  to  settle  in  Moscow 
this  year  with  my  whole  house.  Lyubochka  is  too  young 
yet ;  and  as  to  the  boys,  who  will  be  living  with  you,  I  am 
more  at  ease  than  if  they  stayed  with  me.'  That  is  all 
very  nice ! "  continued  grandmother,  in  a  tone  that  clearly 
showed  she  did  not  find  it  at  all  very  nice.  "  The  boys 
ought  to  have  been  sent  here  long  ago,  to  learn  some- 
thing, and  to  get  used  to  the  world,  for  what  kind  of  an 
education  could  they  get  in  the  country  ?  The  eldest  will 
soon  be  thirteen  years,  and  the  other  eleven.  You  have 
noticed,  mon  cousin,  they  are  here  like  savages,  —  they 
do  not  know  how  to  enter  a  room." 

"  I  can't,  however,  understand,"  answered  the  prince, 
"  what  is  the  cause  of  their  eternal  complaint  about 
ruinous  conditions '?  He  has  some  very  good  property, 
and  Natasha's  Khabarovka,  where  you  and  I,  in  times 
long  gone,  used  to  play  theatre,  I  know  like  the  five 
fingers  of  my  hand ;  it  is  a  magnificent  estate,  and  ought 
to  bring  a  nice  income." 


80  CHILDHOOD 

"  I  will  toll  you  as  a  true  friend,"  grandmother  inter- 
rupted liini,  with  a  sad  counteuauce, "  it  seems  to  me  that 
these  are  only  excuses,  so  as  to  give  him  a  chance  to  live 
here  alone,  to  frequent  clubs  and  dinners,  and  to  do  God 
knows  what ;  but  she  does  not  suspect  anything.  You 
know  what  an  angelic  soul  she  is ;  she  has  complete  con- 
fidence in  him.  He  had  assured  her  that  the  children 
ought  to  be  taken  to  Moscow,  and  that  she  ought  to  stay 
all  alone,  with  the  stupid  governess,  in  the  country,  —  and 
she  believed  him.  If  he  were  to  tell  her  that  the  children 
ought  to  be  whipped,  as  Princess  Varvara  Ilinichna  whips 
them,  she,  I  think,  would  at  once  consent,"  said  grand- 
mother, moving  about  in  her  chair,  with  an  expression  of 
deep  disgust.  "  Yes,  my  friend,"  continued  grandmother, 
after  a  moment's  silence,  and  raising  one  of  her  two 
handkerchiefs,  to  wipe  off  a  tear  which  had  made  its 
appearance,  "  I  often  think  that  he  can  neither  value  nor 
understand  her,  and  that  in  spite  of  all  her  goodness, 
her  love  for  him,  and  her  desire  to  hide  her  grief,  —  I 
know  that  well,  —  she  cannot  be  happy  with  him.  Ee- 
member  what  I  say,  he  will  —  " 

Grandmother  covered  her  face  with  her  handkerchief. 

"  Eh,  ma  honne  amie,"  said  the  prince,  chidingly,  "  I 
see  you  have  not  become  wiser  in  the  least,  —  you  eter- 
nally worry  and  weep  for  an  imaginary  sorrow.  Eeally, 
are  you  not  ashamed  ?  I  have  known  him  for  a  long 
time,  and  I  have  known  him  as  an  attentive,  good,  and 
excellent  husband,  and,  above  all,  as  a  very  noble  man,  un 
parfait  honnet  liomme." 

Having  involuntarily  heard  the  conversation,  which 
I  ought  not  to  have  heard,  I  slipped  out  of  the  room 
on  tiptoe,  and  in  great  agitation. 


XIX. 

THE    ivINS 

"  VOLODYA !  Volodya  !  The  Ivius ! "  I  cried  out  wbeii 
I  saw  through  the  wiudow  three  boys,  iu  blue  frogged 
coats  with  beaver  collars,  who,  following  their  youug, 
dandyish  tutor,  were  crossing  from  the  other  side  of  the 
street  toward  our  house. 

The  Ivins  were  some  relatives  of  ours,  and  almost  of 
the  same  age  with  us.  Soon  after  our  arrival  in  Moscow 
we  became  acquainted  and  friendly. 

The  second  Ivin,  Ser^zha,  was  a  swarthy,  curly-headed 
boy,  with  an  upturned,  firm  nose,  very  fresh,  red  lips, 
which  rarely  were  entirely  closed,  a  somewhat  prominent 
upper  row  of  white  teeth,  beautiful,  dark  blue  eyes,  and 
an  unusually  lively  countenance.  He  never  smiled,  but 
either  looked  quite  serious,  or  laughed  heartily  with  a 
melodious,  clear-cut,  and  exceedingly  attractive  laughter. 
His  original  beauty  struck  me  from  the  very  start.  I  felt 
unconquerably  attracted  by  him.  It  was  enough  for  my 
happiness  to  see  him,  and  all  the  powers  of  my  soul  were 
concentrated  upon  this  desire.  When  I  passed  three  or 
four  days  without  seeing  him,  I  grew  lonely,  and  felt  sad 
enough  to  weep.  All  my  dreams,  waking  and  sleeping, 
were  of  him.  When  I  lay  down  to  sleep,  I  wished  that 
I  might  dream  of  him;  when  I  closed  my  eyes,  I  saw 
him  before  me,  and  I  treasured  this  vision  as  my  greatest 
pleasure.  I  did  not  dare  entrust  this  feeling  to  any  one 
in  the  world,  I  valued  it  so. 

81 


82  CHILDHOOD 

Perhaps  he  was  tired  of  feeling  my  restless  eyes  con- 
tinually directed  toward  him,  or  he  did  not  feel  any 
sympathy  for  me,  but  he  visibly  preferred  to  play  and  to 
talk  with  Volodya,  rather  than  with  me.  I  was,  never- 
theless, satisfied,  wished  for  nothing,  demanded  nothing, 
and  was  ready  to  sacrifice  everything  for  him. 

In  addition  to  the  passionate  attraction  with  which  he 
inspired  me,  his  presence  provoked  in  me,  in  no  less 
degree,  another  feeling,  —  a  fear  of  offending  him,  or  in 
any  way  grieving  him,  and  not  pleasing  him  ;  perhaps, 
because  his  face  bore  a  haughty  expression,  or  because, 
disdaining  my  own  looks,  I  too  much  valued  the  advan- 
tages of  beauty  in  others,  or,  what  is  more  likely,  since  it 
is  a  decided  sign  of  love,  T  was  as  much  in  fear  of  him 
as  I  loved  him.  When  Serezha  spoke  to  me  for  the  first 
time,  I  so  completely  lost  myself  from  such  unexpected 
happiness,  that  I  grew  pale,  and  blushed,  and  did  not 
know  what  to  answer  him.  He  had  a  bad  habit,  when 
he  was  thinking  of  something,  of  resting  his  eyes  on  one 
object,  blinking  all  the  time,  and  twitching  his  nose  and 
eyebrows.  Everybody  found  that  this  habit  spoiled  his 
face,  but  I  thought  it  so  charming  that  I  came  to  do 
the  same,  and  a  few  days  after  my  acquaintance  with 
him,  grandmother  asked  me  whether  my  eyes  were  not 
hurting  me,  for  I  was  jerking  them  like  an  owl.  Not  a 
word  was  ever  said  between  us  in  regard  to  our  love,  but 
lie  felt  his  power  over  me,  and  tyrannically,  though  un- 
consciously, made  use  of  it  in  our  childish  relations.  How- 
ever much  I  wished  to  tell  him  what  there  was  upon  my 
soul,  I  was  too  much  afraid  of  him  to  attempt  confidences, 
and  tried  to  appear  indifferent,  and  without  murmuring 
submitted  to  him.  At  times  his  influence  seemed  hard  and 
intolerable  to  me,  but  it  was  not  in  my  power  to  escape  it. 

It  is  sad  to  recall  that  refreshing,  beautiful  feeling  of 
unselfish  and  limitless  love,  which  died  without  ebullition 
and  without  finding  any  response. 


THE   iviNS  83 

It  is  strange  that,  when  I  was  a  child,  I  always  wanted 
to  be  big,  and  now,  since  I  have  ceased  being  small,  I 
frequently  wish  I  were.  How  often  this  desire,  not  to 
be  like  a  child,  had,  in  my  relations  to  Serezha,  arrested 
the  feeling  which  was  ready  to  pour  forth,  and  caused  me 
to  simulate.  I  not  only  did  not  dare  to  kiss  him,  which 
I  frequently  wanted  to  do,  to  take  his  hand,  to  say  how 
glad  I  was  to  see  him,  but  did  not  even  dare  to  call  him 
Serezha,  but  only  Sergyey :  such  was  the  relation  estab- 
lished between  us.  Every  expression  of  sentiment  was  a 
proof  of  childishness,  and  iie  who  permitted  himself  such 
a  thing  was  still  a  hoy.  Although  we  had  not  yet  passed 
those  bitter  experiences  which  lead  grown  people  to  be 
cautious  and  cold  in  their  relations  with  each  other,  we 
deprived  ourselves  of.  the  pure  enjoyment  of  a  tender, 
childlike  attachment,  through  the  one  strange  desire  to 
imitate  grown  people. 

I  met  the  Ivins  in  the  antechamber,  greeted  them,  and 
flew  headlong  to  grandmother ;  I  announced  to  her  that 
the  Ivins  had  come,  with  an  expression  as  if  this  news 
ought  to  make  her  completely  happy.  Then,  without 
taking  my  eyes  off  Serezha,  I  followed  him  into  the  draw- 
ing-room and  watched  all  his  movements.  While  grand- 
mother said  that  he  had  grown  much,  and  directed  her 
penetrating  eyes  upon  him,  I  experienced  that  feeling  of 
terror  and  hope  which  the  artist  must  experience  when 
he  is  waiting  for  the  respected  judge  to  pass  a  sentence 
upon  his  production. 

The  young  tutor  of  the  Ivins,  Herr  Frost,  went,  with 
grandmother's  permission,  down  into  the  garden  with  us, 
seated  himself  on  a  green  bench,  picturesquely  crossed  his 
legs,  placing  between  them  his  cane  with  a  brass  knob, 
and,  with  the  expression  of  a  man  who  is  satisfied  with 
his  actions,  lighted  a  cigar. 

Herr  Frost  was  a  German,  but  of  an  entirely  different 
type  from  our  good  Karl  Ivanovich.    In  the  first  place  he 


84  CHILDHOOD 

spoke  Eussian  correctly,  and  French  with  a  bad  pronun- 
ciation, and  enjoyed,  particularly  among  ladies,  the  repu- 
tation of  being  a  very  learned  gentleman ;  in  the  second, 
he  wore  red  moustaches,  a  large  ruby  pin  in  a  black  satin 
cravat,  the  ends  of  which  were  tucked  under  his  sus- 
penders, and  light  blue  pantaloons  with  changing  hues  and 
with  foot-straps ;  in  the  third,  he  was  young,  had  a  beau- 
tiful, self-satisfied  expression,  and  unusually  well-de- 
veloped, muscular  legs.  It  was  evident  he  very  much 
treasured  this  advantage  ;  he  regarded  the  effect  as  irre- 
sistible on  persons  of  the  feminine  sex  and,  no  doubt  for 
this  reason,  tried  to  place  his  legs  in  a  most  noticeal)le 
position,  and,  whether  he  was  standing  or  sitting,  contin- 
ually moved  his  thighs.  It  was  the  type  of  a  young 
Eussian  German,  who  wished  to  be  a  beau  and  a  Love- 
lace. 

We  had  a  merry  time  in  the  garden.  The  game  of 
robbers  went  on  as  nicely  as  possible ;  but  an  incident 
came  very  near  putting  a  stop  to  it.  Ser^zha  was  the 
robber.  In  running  after  the  travellers,  he  tripped,  and  in 
full  career  struck  his  knee  against  a  tree  with  such  force 
that  I  thought  he  would  break  to  splinters.  Although  I 
was  the  rural  police,  and  my  duty  consisted  in  catching 
him,  I  went  up  to  him  sympathetically,  and  asked  him 
whether  he  had  hurt  himself  very  painfully.  Ser^zha  was 
furious,  he  clenched  his  fists,  stamped  his  feet,  and,  in  a 
voice  which  showed  conclusively  tliat  he  had  hurt  himself 
very  much,  cried  out  to  me : 

"  What  is  that  ?  After  this,  there  is  no  game  !  Well, 
why  do  you  not  catch  me,  wby  do  you  not  catch  me  ? "  he 
repeated  several  times,  looking  away  at  Volodya  and  the 
elder  Ivin,  who  represented  the  travellers  and  leaped  up 
and  down  the  path ;  then  he  suddenly  shouted  and  with 
loud  laughter  rushed  forward  to  catch  them. 

I  can't  tell  how  that  heroic  act  struck  and  captivated 
me.       In  spite  of  his  terrible  pain,  be  not  only  did  not 


THE     IVINS  86 

weep,  but  he  did  not  even  show  that  he  had  been  hurt, 
and  did  not  for  a  minute  forget  the  game. 

Soon  after  that,  when  Iliuka  Grap  joined  our  company 
and  we  went  up-stairs  before  dinner,  Serezha  had  occasion 
to  captivate  me  even  more  and  to  impress  me  with  his 
remarkable  manhness  and  fortitude  of  character. 

Ilinka  Grap  was  the  son  of  a  poor  foreigner,  who  had 
once  lived  at  my  grandfather's.  He  was  in  some  way 
under  obligations  to  him,  and  for  some  reason  regarded  it 
as  his  duty  to  send  his  son  to  us  as  often  as  possible.  If 
he  thought  that  our  acquaintance  would  afford  his  son 
any  honour  or  pleasure,  he  was  in  this  respect  completely 
mistaken,  because  we  not  only  were  not  friendly  with 
Iliuka,  but  turned  our  attention  to  him  only  when  we 
wanted  to  make  fun  of  him.  Ilinka  was  a  boy  of  about 
thirteen  years  of  age,  tliiu,  tall,  pale,  with  a  birdlike  face, 
and  a  good-natured,  submissive  expression.  He  was 
dressed  very  poorly,  but  was  always  so  copiously  covered 
with  pomatum  that  we  used  to  assert  that  on  a  warm  day 
the  pomatum  melted  on  Grap's  head  and  ran  under  his 
blouse.  When  I  think  of  him  now,  I  find  that  he  was  a 
very  obliging,  quiet,  and  good  boy;  but  then  he  appeared 
to  me  such  a  contemptible  being  that  it  was  not  worth 
while  to  pity  him  or  even  to  think  of  him. 

When  the  game  of  robbers  stopped,  we  went  up-stairs, 
and  began  to  .show  off  and  to  brag  before  each  other  with 
all  kinds  of  gymnastic  tricks.  Iliuka  looked  at  us  with  a 
timid  smile  of  wonderment,  and  when  it  was  proposed 
that  he  should  do  likewise,  he  declined,  saying  that  he 
did  not  have  any  strength.  Serezha  was  wonderful ;  he 
took  off  his  blouse ;  his  face  and  eyes  were  red,  for 
he  continually  laughed  and  tried  new  tricks :  he  jumped 
over  three  chairs  placed  in  a  row,  turned  somersaults 
through  the  whole  length  of  the  room,  stood  on  his  head 
on  Tatischev's  dictionaries,  which  he  had  placed  in  the 
middle  of  the  room  in  the  shape  of  a  pedestal,  and  did 


86  CHILDHOOD 

such  funny  tricks  witli  his  feet  that  it  was  impossible  to 
keep  from  laughing.  After  this  last  peformance,  he 
thought  for  a  moment,  winked,  and  suddenly  went  up  to 
Ilinka  with  a  very  serious  expression  in  his  face :  "  Try 
that ;  really  it  is  not  hard."  Noticing  that  the  eyes  of  all 
were  directed  upon  him,  Grap  blushed  and  with  a  scarcely 
audible  voice  assured  us  that  he  was  in  no  way  capable 
of  doing  it. 

"  Now,  really,  why  does  he  not  want  to  do  it  ?  Is  he  a 
girl  ?  What  ?  He  must,  by  all  means,  stand  on  his 
head  ! " 

And  Serezha  took  his  hand. 

"  By  all  means,  by  all  means  on  his  head ! "  we  all 
cried,  and  surrounded  Ilinka,  who  was  perceptibly  fright- 
ened and  pale.  We  took  his  hands  and  pulled  him  to  the 
dictionaries. 

"  Let  me,  I'll  do  it  alone  !  You  will  tear  my  blouse  ! " 
cried  the  unfortunate  victim.  But  these  cries  of  despair 
only  encouraged  us  more.  We  were  dying  with  laughter, 
and  the  green  blouse  cracked  in  all  its  seams. 

Volodya  and  the  elder  Ivin  bent  down  his  head  and 
placed  it  on  the  dictionaries.  Serezha  and  I  got  hold  of 
the  poor  boy's  thin  legs,  which  he  waved  in  all  directions, 
rolled  up  his  pantaloons  to  his  knees,  and  w^ith  loud 
laughter  stretched  his  legs  in  the  air.  The  younger  Ivin 
sustained  the  equilibrium  of  his  body. 

It  so  happened  that  after  the  noisy  laughter  we  all  sud- 
denly grew  silent,  and  it  was  so  quiet  in  the  room  that  we 
could  hear  the  heavy  breathing  of  poor  Grap.  That  mo- 
ment I  was  not  entirely  convinced  that  all  this  was  funny 
and  jolly. 

"  Now  he  is  a  fine  fellow  ! "  said  Serezha,  slapping  him 
with  his  hand. 

Ilinka  was  silent,  and  in  trying  to  free  himself,  threw 
his  legs  in  all  directions.  During  one  of  these  desperate 
movements,  his  heel  struck  Ser^zha's  eye  so  painfuUy  that 


THE    IVINS  87 

Ser^zha  at  once  dropped  his  legs,  put  his  hand  to  his  eye, 
from  which  tears  began  to  flow  against  his  will,  and  gave 
Einka  a  blow  with  all  his  might.  Iliuka  was  no  longer 
supported  by  us,  and  fell  to  the  floor  like  a  lifeless  mass. 
He  could  only  say  through  tears : 

"  Why  do  you  torment  me  so  ? " 

The  pitiful  figure  of  poor  Ilinka,  with  his  tearful  face, 
dishevelled  hair,  and  tucked-up  pantaloons,  underneath 
which  could  be  seen  the  unblackened  boot-legs,  struck  us 
forcibly ;  we  were  all  silent  and  endeavoured  to  smile. 

Ser^zha  was  the  first  to  come  to  his  senses. 

"  He  is  an  old  woman,  and  a  cry  baby,"  he  said,  lightly 
touching  him  with  his  foot.  "  It  is  impossible  to  play  with 
him.     Now,  that  will  do,  get  up." 

"  I  told  you  you  were  a  naughty  boy,"  angrily  cried 
Ilinka,  and,  turning  away,  sobbed  out  loud. 

"  Oh,  he  strikes  with  his  heels,  and  then  he  calls  names  ! " 
cried  Ser(5zha,  taking  a  dictionary  in  his  hands  and  swing- 
ing it  over  the  head  of  the  unfortunate  boy,  who  did  not 
even  think  of  defending  himself,  but  covered  his  head  with 
his  hands. 

"  Take  this,  and  this !  Let  us  leave  him,  if  he  does 
not  know  what  jokes  are.  Let  us  go  down-stairs,"  said 
Ser^zha,  laughing  in  an  unnatural  manner. 

I  looked  sympathetically  at  the  poor  fellow,  who  lay 
upon  the  floor,  and,  hiding  his  face  in  a  dictionary,  wept 
so  much  that  I  thought  he  would  certainly  die  of  the  con- 
vulsions with  which  his  body  was  shaking. 

"  0  Scrgy^y  !  "  said  I  to  him,  "  why  did  you  do  that  ?  " 

"  I  declare !  I  did  not  cry,  I  hope,  when  I  almost 
crushed  my  leg  to  the  bone  ! " 

"  Yes,  that  is  so,"  thought  I,  "  Ilinka  is  nothing  but  a 
cry  baby,  and  Ser^zha  is  a  brave  fellow.  Oh,  what  a 
brave  fellow ! " 

It  did  not  occur  to  me  that  the  poor  boy  was  really  not 
crying  so  much  from  physical  pain  as  from  the  thought 


55  CHILDHOOD 

that  five  boys,  whom  he,  uo  duuljt,  hked,  had  without  any 
reason  conspired  to  hate  and  persecute  him. 

I  positively  am  not  able  to  explain  the  cruelty  of  my 
act.  How  is  it  I  did  not  go  up  to  him,  did  not  defend, 
or  console  him  ?  What  had  become  of  the  sentiment  of 
compassion  which  used  to  make  me  sob  at  the  sight  of  a 
young  jackdaw  thrown  out  of  its  nest,  or  of  a  pup  that 
was  to  be  thrown  over  the  fence,  or  a  chicken  that  the 
cook-boy  took  out  to  kill  for  the  soup  ? 

Is  it  possible  this  beautiful  sentiment  was  choked  in 
me  through  my  love  for  Seri^zha,  and  my  desire  to  appear 
before  him  just  such  a  brave  fellow  as  he  was  ?  This 
love  and  desire  to  appear  brave  were  no  enviable  qualities, 
for  they  produced  the  only  dark  spots  on  the  pages  of  my 
childhood  memories. 


XX. 

GUESTS    AEE    COMING 

To  judge  from  the  unusual  activity  which  was  notice- 
able in  the  buffet,  from  the  bright  illumination  which  gave 
a  new,  festive  appearance  to  the  old,  familiar  objects  in 
the  drawing-room  and  parlour,  and,  more  especially,  to 
judge  from  the  fact  that  Prince  Ivan  Ivanovich  had  sent  his 
music,  there  was  to  be  a  large  gathering  of  people  in  the 
evening. 

At  the  noise  of  each  carriage  that  passed  by,  I  ran  to 
the  window,  put  my  hands  to  my  temples  and  to  the  pane, 
and  with  impatient  curiosity  looked  into  the  street.  From 
the  darkness,  which  at  first  hid  all  the  objects  outside  the 
window,  slowly  emerged :  right  opposite,  the  familiar 
bench  with  the  lamp-post ;  diagonally  across,  a  large  house, 
with  two  windows  below  lighted  up ;  in  the  middle  of  the 
street,  some  Jehu,  with  two  occupants  in  his  vehicle,  or 
an  empty  coach,  returning  home  leisurely.  Suddenly  a 
carriage  drove  up  to  the  entrance,  and  I,  quite  sure  that  it 
must  be  the  Ivius,  who  had  promised  to  arrive  early,  ran 
down  to  meet  them  in  the  antechamber.  Instead  of  the 
Ivins,  appeared,  after  the  liveried  arm  which  had  opened 
the  door,  two  ladies,  one,  tall,  in  a  blue  cloak  with  a  sable 
collar,  the  other,  small,  all  wrapped  in  a  green  shawl, 
underneath  which  could  be  seen  only  tiny  feet  in  fur  boots. 
Without  paying  any  attention  to  my  presence  in  the  ante- 
chamber, though  I  had  regarded  it  as  my  duty  to  bow  to 


90  CHILDHOOD 

them  at  their  arrival,  the  smaller  lady  walked  up  to  the 
taller,  and  stopped  in  front  of  her.  The  tall  lady  unwound 
the  kerchief  that  completely  hid  the  head  of  the  small 
lady  and  unbuttoned  her  cloak.  When  the  liveried  lackey 
received  these  things  in  his  keeping,  and  had  taken  off  her 
fur  boots,  there  issued  from  that  bundled-up  being  a  beau- 
tiful girl  twelve  years  of  age,  in  a  short,  open  muslin 
dress,  white  pantalets,  and  tiny  black  shoes.  Over  her 
white  neck  was  a  black  velvet  ribbon,  her  head  was  all  in 
dark  blond  curls  which  so  beautifully  encased  her  pretty 
face  in  front,  and  her  bare  neck  behind,  that  I  should  not 
have  believed  anybody,  not  even  Karl  Ivanovich,  that 
they  curled  in  this  way  because,  ever  since  morning,  they 
had  been  tied  in  bits  of  the  Moscow  Gazette,  and  because 
they  had  been  curled  with  hot  curling-irons.  It  seemed 
to  me  she  was  born  that  way,  with  her  curly  head. 

The  striking  feature  of  her  face  was  the  unusual  size 
of  her  bulging,  half-closed  eyes,  which  formed  a  strange, 
liut  pleasant  contrast  with  the  tiny  mouth.  Her  little 
lips  were  closed,  and  her  eyes  looked  so  serious  that  the 
general  expression  of  her  face  was  such  that  one  did  not 
expect  a  smile  from  it,  and,  consequently,  her  smile  was 
the  more  enchanting. 

Trying  not  to  be  noticed,  I  slunk  through  the  door  of 
the  parlour,  and  thought  it  necessary  to  walk  up  and 
down,  pretending  that  I  was  deep  in  thought,  and  that  I 
did  not  know  that  guests  had  come.  When  the  guests 
reached  the  middle  of  the  parlour,  I,  as  it  were,  came  to, 
scuffed,  and  announced  to  them  that  grandmother  was  in 
the  sitting-room.  Madame  Valakhin,  whose  face  I  liked 
very  much,  especially  since  I  discovered  in  it  a  resem- 
blance to  the  face  of  her  daughter  Sdnic'hka,  graciously 
nodded  her  head  to  me. 

Grandmother  was  apparently  very  glad  to  see  S6nichka, 
called  her  to  her,  fixed  a  lock  upon  her  head,  which  had 
fallen  on  her  forehead,  and,  looking  fixedly  at  her,  said ; 


GUESTS    ARE    COMING  91 

"  Quelle  charmante  enfant ! "      Sonichka  smiled,  blushed, 
and  looked  so  sweet,  that  I,  too,  blushed,  looking  at  her. 

"  I  hope  you  will  not  be  lonely  at  my  house,  dear  girl," 
said  grandmother,  raising  her  face  by  the  chin.  "  I  ask 
you  to  have  a  good  time  and  dance  as  much  as  possible. 
Here  are  already  one  lady  and  two  gentlemen  "  she  added, 
speaking  to  Madame  Valakhin,  and  touching  my  hand. 

This  way  of  connecting  me  with  herself  was  so  pleas- 
ing that  it  made  me  blush  once  more. 

As  I  felt  that  my  bashfulness  was  increasing,  and 
hearing  the  rumble  of  an  approaching  carriage,  I  thought 
it  necessary  to  withdraw.  In  the  antechamber  I  found 
Princess  Kornakov  with  a  son  and  an  incredible  number 
of  daughters.  Her  daughters  had  all  the  same  looks, 
they  all  resembled  the  princess,  and  they  were  all  homely, 
so  that  not  one  of  them  arrested  the  attention.  After 
doffing  their  cloaks  and  boas,  they  suddenly  began  to 
speak  in  thin  voices,  fluttered  about,  and  laughed  at 
something,  no  doubt  because  there  were  so  many  of 
them.  Etienne  was  a  boy  of  about  fifteen  years  of  age, 
tall,  flabl)y,  with  a  washetl-out  face,  sunken,  blue-ringed 
eyes,  and  enormous  arms  and  legs  for  his  age.  He  was  awk- 
ward, and  his  voice  was  uneven  and  harsh,  but  he  seemed 
to  be  satisfied  with  himself,  and  was  just  the  kind  of  boy 
I  had  expected  of  one  who  was  whipped  with  switches. 

We  stood  quite  a  while  facing  and  examining  each 
other,  without  saying  a  word.  Then  we  moved  up  to 
each  other  and,  it  seems,  were  about  to  kiss,  but  having 
taken  another  look  at  one  another,  somehow  changed 
our  minds.  When  the  dresses  of  all  his  sisters  had 
rustled  by  us,  I  asked  him,  in  order  to  start  a  conversa- 
tion, whether  they  had  not  been  crowded  in  the  carriage. 

"  I  do  not  know,"  he  answered,  carelessly.  "  You  know, 
I  never  travel  in  the  carriage,  because,  the  moment  I  seat 
myself  in  it,  I  get  a  sick  headache,  and  mamma  knows 
that.     When  we  go  out  for  the  evening,  I  always  take  my 


92  CHILDHOOD 

place  on  the  coachman's  box,  —  it's  jollier,  —  I  can  see 
everything,  and  Filipp  lets  me  guide  the  horses,  and  some- 
times I  take  the  whip,  too.  And  those  that  drive  by  some- 
times get  it,"  he  added,  with  an  expressive  gesture.  "  It's 
nice ! " 

"  Your  Grace,"  said  a  lackey,  who  had  just  entered  the 
antechamber,  "  Filipp  wants  to  know  what  you  have 
deigned  to  do  with  the  whip  ? " 

"  How  ?    What  ?     I  gave  it  back  to  him." 

"  He  says  you  didn't." 

"  Well,  then  I  hung  it  on  the  lamp-post." 

"  Filipp  says  that  it  is  not  on  the  lamp-post  either,  and 
you  had  better  admit  that  you  have  lost  it,  and  so  Filipp 
will  with  his  own  money  answer  for  your  jokes,"  continued 
the  angry  lackey,  becoming  more  and  more  animated. 

The  lackey,  whose  appearance  was  that  of  a  respectable 
and  stern  man,  evidently  took  Filipp's  side  with  zeal,  and 
was  determined  by  all  means  to  clear  up  the  matter.  By 
a  natural  feeling  of  delicacy,  I  stepped  aside,  as  if  I  had  not 
noticed  anything ;  but  the  lackeys  present  acted  differently, 
they  came  nearer,  and  approvingly  looked  at  the  old  servant. 

"  Well,  if  I  lost  it,  I  lost  it,"  said  Etieune,  avoiding  any 
further  explanations.  "  I'll  pay  him  whatever  the  whip 
is  worth.  How  funny!"  he  added,  walking  up  to  me, 
and  drawing  me  after  him  into  the  drawing-room. 

"  No,  excuse  me,  master,  what  are  you  going  to  pay 
with  ?  I  know  how  you  pay.  You  have  not  paid 
Mary  a  Vlasevna  her  two  dimes  these  eight  months ;  it 
is  now  two  years  you  have  not  payed  me,  and  Pe- 
trusha  —  " 

"  Will  you  shut  up  ? "  cried  out  the  young  prince,  turn- 
ing pale  from  auger,     "  I  will  tell  it  all  —  " 

"  I  will  tell  it  all,  I  will  tell  it  all ! "  said  the  lackey. 
"  It  is  not  good,  your  Grace  ! "  he  added  with  great  empha- 
sis, just  as  we  entered  the  parlour,  aud  as  he  was  going 
with  the  cloaks  to  the  clothes-press. 


GUESTS    ARE    COMING  93 

"  That's  it !  That's  it ! "  was  heard  somebody's  approv- 
ing voice  in  the  antechamber  behind  us. 

Grandmother  had  the  special  gift,  by  applying,  with  a 
certain  tone,  and  at  certain  occasions,  the  plural  and  sin- 
gular number  of  the  pronoun  of  the  second  person,  to 
express  her  opinion  of  people.  Although  she  used  "  thou  " 
and  "  you "  in  a  reversed  sense  from  the  commonly  ac- 
cepted form,  these  shades  received  an  entirely  different 
meaning  in  her  mouth.  When  the  young  prince  walked 
up  to  her,  she  said  a  few  words  to  him,  calling  him  "  you," 
and  glanced  at  him  with  an  expression  of  such  contempt 
that  if  I  had  been  in  his  place,  I  should  have  gone  to 
pieces.  But  Etienne  was,  apparently,  a  boy  of  a  different 
composition :  he  not  only  did  not  pay  any  attention  to 
grandmother's  reception,  but  not  even  to  her  person,  and 
bowed  to  the  whole  company,  with  the  greatest  ease,  if 
not  very  gracefully. 

Sonichka  occupied  all  my  attention.  I  remember  how 
I  spoke  with  the  greatest  pleasure,  whenever  Volddya, 
Etienne,  and  I  were  conversing  in  a  place  in  the  parlour 
where  Sonichka  could  be  seen,  and  she  could  see  and 
hear  us  —  Whenever  I  had  occasion  to  say  something 
that,  in  my  opinion,  was  either  funny  or  clever,  I  spoke 
louder,  and  looked  at  the  door  that  led  into  the  drawing- 
room  ;  but  when  we  went  over  to  another  place,  where 
we  could  not  be  seen  or  heard,  I  was  silent,  and  no 
longer  found  any  pleasure  in  the  conversation. 

The  drawing-room  and  the  parlour  were  slowly  filling 
up  with  guests.  Among  them,  as  is  always  the  case  at 
evening  parties  for  children,  were  some  older  ones,  who 
would  not  let  slip  an  opportunity  of  making  merry  and 
dancing,  as  if  only  to  please  the  lady  of  the  house. 

When  the  Ivins  arrived,  the  pleasure  which  I  generally 
experienced  at  meeting  Ser^zha  gave  way  to  a  strange 
annoyance,  because  he  would  see  Sonichka,  and  would  be 
seen  by  her. 


XXL 

BEFORE    THE    MAZURKA 

"  Oh,  there  will  be  some  dancing  here,  I  see,"  said 
Ser^zha,  as  he  left  the  sitting-room,  and  took  out  of  his 
pocket  a  new  pair  of  kid  gloves.  "  I  must  put  on  my 
gloves." 

"  What  shall  I  do  ?  We  have  no  gloves,"  thought  I, 
"  and  I  must  go  up-stairs  and  look  for  some." 

Although  I  rummaged  through  all  the  drawers,  I 
found  in  one  of  them  only  our  travelling  mittens,  and  in 
another  one  kid  glove,  which  could  be  of  no  use  whatso- 
ever to  me :  in  the  first  place,  because  it  was  exceedingly 
old  and  dirty,  in  the  second  place,  because  it  was  entirely 
too  large;  and  chiefly,  because  it  lacked  the  middle 
finger,  which  had,  no  doubt,  been  cut  off  by  Karl  Ivano- 
vich  for  some  ailing  hand.  I  put  the  remnant  of  a  glove, 
however,  on  my  hand,  and  attentively  examined  that  spot 
on  the  middle  finger  which  is  always  black  with  ink. 

"  Now,  if  Natalya  Savishna  were  here  she  certainly 
would  find  some  gloves.  I  can't  go  down-stairs  in  this 
shape,  because  when  they  will  ask  me  why  I  am  not 
dancing,  what  am  I  to  say  ?  Neither  can  I  remain  here, 
because  they  will  just  as  surely  discover  my  absence. 
What  am  I  to  do  ? "  said  I,  and  waved  my  hands  in 
despair. 

"  What  are  you  doing  here  ? "  said  Volodya,  who  had 
just  run  in.     "  Go,  engage  a  lady,  it  will  begin  soon." 

"  Vol(5dya,"  said  I  to  him,  showing  him   my  hand  with 

94 


BEFORE    THE    MAZUEKA  95 

two  fingers  sticking  out  of  the  soiled  glove,  and  speaking 
in  a  voice  which  expressed  a  condition  bordering  on 
despair,  "  Volodya,  you  did  not  think  of  this ! " 

«  Of  what  ? "  he  said,  impatiently.  "  Ah  !  Of  the 
gloves,"  he  added,  quite  indifferently,  as  he  noticed  my 
hand ;  "  that  is  so,  we  have  none,  and  we  shall  have  to 
ask  grandmother  what  she  has  to  say  about  it."  And, 
without  reflecting  a  moment,  he  ran  down-stairs. 

The  indifference  with  which  he  had  referred  to  a  sub- 
ject that  had  seemed  so  important  to  me,  calmed  me,  and 
I  hastened  into  the  drawing-room,  entirely  forgetful  of 
the  monstrous  glove  which  was  drawn  over  my  left 
hand. 

Cautiously  approaching  grandmother's  chair,  and 
lightly  touching  her  mantilla,  I  said  in  a  whisper  to 
her : 

"  Grandmother,  what  are  we  to  do  ?  We  have  no 
gloves  ! " 

"  What  is  it,  my  dear  ? " 

"We  have  no  gloves,"  I  repeated,  coming  nearer  and 
nearer,  and  placing  both  my  hands  on  the  arm  of  the 
chair. 

"  What  is  this  ? "  she  said,  seizing  my  left  hand. 
"  Voyez,  ma  chere"  she  continued,  turning  to  IMadame 
Valakhin,  "  voyez  comme  ce  jeune  liomme  s'est  fait  elegant 
pour  danser  avec  voire  fille  !  " 

Grandmother  held  my  hand  tightly,  and  with  an 
inviting,  though  serious,  glance  looked  at  the  persons 
present,  until  the  curiosity  of  all  the  guests  was  satisfied, 
and  the  laughter  had  become  universal. 

I  should  have  been  very  much  aggrieved  if  Ser^zha  had 
seen  me,  as  I,  shrinking  from  shame,  was  trying  to  pull 
away  my  hand  ;  but  I  did  not  feel  in  the  least  ashamed 
before  Sonichka,  who  was  laughing  so  heartily  that  tears 
stood  in  her  eyes  and  all  her  locks  kept  bobbing  about  her 
heated   face.     I   understood    that   her    laughter   was   too 


96  CHILDHOOD 

loud  aud  uDuatural  to  be  derisive ;  on  the  contrary,  the 
fact  that  we  were  laugliing  both  together,  aud  looking  at 
each  other,  brought  me,  in  a  certain  way,  nearer  to  her. 
The  episode  with  the  glove  might  have  had  a  bad  end, 
but  it  gave  me  this  advantage,  it  put  me  on  a  free  footing 
with  a  circle  which  always  appeared  to  me  as  the  most 
terrible,  —  the  circle  in  the  drawing-room.  I  no  longer 
felt  the  least  bashfulness  in  the  parlour. 

The  suffering  of  bashful  people  arises  from  their  un- 
certainty as  to  the  opinion  which  is  held  in  regard  to 
them.  The  moment  this  opinion  is  clearly  defined, — 
whatever  it  may  be,  —  the  suffering  ceases. 

How  sweet  Sonichka  Valakhin  was,  when  she  danced 
a  French  quadrille  opposite  me,  with  the  awkward  young 
prince !  How  sweetly  she  smiled,  when  she  gave  me  her 
hand  in  the  chaiiic !  How  sweetly  her  blond  curls 
leaped  about  in  even  measure  on  her  head  !  How  naively 
she  made  jete-assenibU  with  her  tiny  feet !  In  the  fifth 
figure,  when  my  lady  ran  from  me  to  the  opposite  side, 
and  I,  waithig  for  the  beat,  was  getting  ready  to  do  my 
solo,  Sonichka  solemnly  compressed  her  lips  and  began  to 
look  to  one  side.  But  she  was  unnecessarily  afraid  for 
me.  I  boldly  made  cliasse  en  avant,  chasse  en  arriere, 
glissade,  and,  when  I  came  near  her,  I  playfully  showed 
her  the  glove  with  the  two  towering  fingers. 

She  burst  into  a  loud  laugh,  and  even  more  charmingly 
scraped  her  tiny  feet  on  the  parquetry.  I  remember  how, 
when  we  formed  a  circle  and  joined  hands,  she  bent  her 
head,  and,  witliout  letting  my  hand  go,  scratched  her  little 
nose  against  her  glove.  All  that  is  standing  vividly  be- 
fore my  eyes,  and  I  still  hear  the  quadrille  from  the 
"  Maid  of  the  Danube,"  to  the  sounds  of  which  it  all  took 
place. 

Then  came  a  second  quadrille,  which  I  danced  with 
S(5nichka.  When  I  seated  myself  by  her  side,  I  felt  quite 
uncomfortable,  and  did  not  have  the  slightest  idea  what 


BEFORE    THE    MAZURKA  97 

to  talk  to  her  about.  When  my  silence  was  prolonged 
too  much,  I  became  frightened  lest  she  should  take  me 
for  a  fool,  and  I  decided  to  free  her  from  such  a  delusion, 
at  whatever  cost.  "  Voiis  etes  une  hahitanfe  de  Moscou  ?  " 
said  I  to  her  and,  after  an  affirmative  answer,  continued : 
"  Et  7noi,  je  n'ai  encore  jamais  freqiientS  la  cajpitale"  cal- 
culating particularly  on  the  effect  of  the  word  fre- 
quenter. I  felt,  however,  that,  though  the  beginning  was 
very  brilliant,  and  gave  complete  proof  of  my  superior 
knowledge  of  French,  I  was  not  able  to  continue  the  con- 
versation in  that  strain.  It  was  still  some  time  before 
our  turn  to  dance  would  come,  and  the  silence  was 
renewed.  I  looked  in  anguish  at  her,  wishing  to  know 
what  impression  I  had  made,  and  expecting  her  to 
help    me. 

"  Where  did  you  find  such  a  killing  glove  ? "  she  sud- 
denly asked  me.  This  question  afforded  me  great  pleasure 
and  relief.  I  explained  that  the  glove  belonged  to  Karl 
Ivanovich,  and  somewhat  ironically  expatiated  on  his  per- 
son, telling  her  how  funny  he  was  when  he  took  off  his 
red  cap,  and  how  he  once,  dressed  in  a  green  wadded  coat, 
fell  from  his  horse  straight  into  a  puddle,  and  so  on.  The 
quadrille  passed  unnoticed.  All  that  was  very  well.  But 
why  did  I  refer  to  Karl  Ivanovich  in  derision  ?  Should  I 
have  lost  Souichka's  good  opinion  if  I  had  described  him 
to  her  with  all  the  love  and  respect  which  I  felt  for  him  ? 

When  the  quadrille  was  over,  Sonichka  said  "  Mcrci  "  to 
me  with  as  sweet  an  expression  as  if  I  really  had  earned 
her  gratitude.  I  was  in  ecstasy,  all  beside  myself  with 
joy,  and  could  not  recognize  myself:  whence  came  my 
courage,  confidence,  and  even  boldness  ?  "  There  is  not  a 
thing  that  could  confuse  me,"  thought  I,  carelessly  walk- 
ing up  and  down  the  parlour  ;  "  I  am  ready  for  everything." 

Ser^zha  proposed  to  me  to  be  his  vis-a-vis.  "  All  right," 
said  I,  "  although  I  have  no  lady,  I  wiU  find  one."  Casting 
a  searching  glance  over  the  wliole  parlour,  I  noticed  that 


98  CHILDHOOD 

all  were  eugaged,  except  one  young  lady,  who  was  stand- 
ing at  the  door  of  the  drawing-room.  A  tall  young  man 
was  just  approaching  her,  as  I  concluded,  in  order  to  invite 
her.  He  was  within  two  steps  of  her,  and  I  at  the  oppo- 
site end  of  the  parlour.  In  the  twinkling  of  an  eye  I  flew, 
gracefully  sliding  over  the  parquetry,  across  the  whole  dis- 
tance which  separated  us,  and,  shuffling  my  feet  before 
her,  with  a  firm  voice,  I  invited  her  to  the  contradance. 
The  tall  young  lady  smiled  condescendingly,  gave  me  her 
hand,  and  the  young  man  was  left  without  a  lady. 

I  had  such  a  consciousness  of  my  power  that  I  did  not 
even  pay  any  attention  to  the  annoyance  of  the  young 
man ;  but  I  found  out  later  that  he  had  asked  who  that 
shaggy  boy  was  that  hail  leaped  in  front  of  him  and  had 
taken  his  lady  away  right  before  his  face. 


XXII. 

THE    MAZURKA 

The  young  man  whose  lady  I  had  taken  away  was 
dancing  a  mazurka,  and  leading  it  as  the  lirst  pair.  He 
leaped  from  his  seat,  holding  his  lady's  hand,  and  instead 
of  making  "pas  de  Basques,"  as  Mimi  had  taught  us, 
simply  ran  ahead.  When  he  reached  the  corner,  he 
stopped,  spread  his  legs,  struck  the  floor  with  his  heel, 
turned  about,  and  hopping,  ran  ahead. 

As  I  had  no  lady  for  the  mazurka,  I  sat  behind  grand- 
mother's high  chair  and  observed. 

"  What  is  he  doing  there  ? "  I  reflected.  "  That  is  not 
at  all  the  way  Mimi  taught  us ;  she  assured  us  that  every- 
body danced  a  mazurka  on  tiptoe,  moving  the  feet  evenly 
and  in  a  circle  ;  and  now  it  seems  that  they  dance  it  quite 
differently.  There  the  Ivins,  and  Etienne,  and  all  are 
dancing,  but  none  of  them  make '^j^s  dc  Basques;'  and 
even  Volodya  has  learned  the  new  fashion.  It  is  not  at 
all  bad  !  And  what  a  sweet  girl  Sonichka  is !  There,  she 
has  started  again  —  "     I  felt  exceedingly  happy. 

The  mazurka  came  to  an  end.  A  few  elderly  men  and 
women  walked  up  to  grandmother,  in  order  to  bid  her 
good-bye,  and  departed.  Avoiding  the  dancers,  the  lack- 
eys were  carefully  carrying  things  for  the  tables  into  the 
back  rooms.  Grandmother  was  visibly  tired,  spoke  as 
if  against  her  will,  and  prolonged  her  woids  beyond  meas- 
ure. The  musicians  for  the  thirtieth  time  lazily  began  the 
same  motive.     The  tall  young  lady,  with  whom   I  had 


100  CHILDHOOD 

danced,  noticed  me,  while  making  a  figure,  and,  smiling 
treacherously,  —  probably,  because  she  wished  to  please 
grandmother  by  it,  —  brought  S6i)ichka  and  one  of  the 
numberless  princesses  to  me.  "  Bosc  ou  hortie"  she  said 
to  me. 

"  Oh,  you  are  here  ! "  said  grandmother,  turning  around 
in  her  chair.     "  Go,  my  dear,  go  !  " 

Although  I  then  felt  more  like  hidiug  my  head  behind 
grandmother's  chair  than  issuing  from  it,  there  was  no 
refusing.  I  got  up,  said  "Rose"  and  timidly  looked  at 
Souichka.  I  had  no  time  to  come  to  my  senses,  when 
somebody's  hand  in  a  white  glove  passed  through  my  arm, 
and  the  princess  with  the  pleasaiitest  smile  rushed  ahead, 
not  suspecting  in  the  least  that  I  was  completely  ignorant 
of  what  I  was  to  do  with  my  feet. 

I  knew  that  "pas  dc  Basques"  was  out  of  place  and 
indecent,  and  might  bring  shame  upon  me;  but  the 
famihar  sounds  of  the  mazurka,  acting  upon  my  hearing, 
gave  a  certain  direction  to  my  acoustic  nerves,  which,  in 
their  turn,  transmitted  the  motion  to  my  legs ;  and  these, 
quite  involuntarily  and  to  the  surprise  of  the  spectators, 
began  to  evolve  the  fatal  round  and  eveu  figures  on  the 
tiptoes.  As  long  as  we  proceeded  in  a  straight  direction, 
things  went  fairly  well,  but  at  turning  I  noticed  that  if  I 
did  not  use  proper  precaution  I  should  fly  ahead.  To 
avoid  such  an  unpleasantness,  I  stopped  with  the  intention 
of  producing  the  same  figures  whicli  the  young  man  had 
so  beautifully  produced  in  the  leading  pair.  But  the  very 
moment  I  spread  my  legs  and  was  about  to  leap  up,  the 
princess  hurriedly  ran  about  me,  and  looked  at  my  legs 
with  an  expression  of  blank  surprise  and  curiosity.  That 
look  undid  me.  I  so  completely  lost  myself,  that  instead 
of  dancing,  I  began,  in  the  strangest  manner  and  entirely 
out  of  keeping  with  the  measure  of  the  dance  or  anything 
else,  to  wriggle  my  feet  in  one  spot,  and  finally  stopped 
entirely.     Everybody  was  looking  at  me,  some  in  wonder- 


THE    MAZURKA  101 

ment,  some  with  curiosity,  some  in  derision,  and  some  with 
compassion.     Grandmother  ahone  remained  indifferent. 

"  II  ne  fallait  pas  danscr,  si  vous  ne  savez  pas  !  "  was 
lieard  the  angry  voice  of  papa  over  my  very  ear,  and,  giv- 
ing me  a  hght  push,  he  took  the  hand  of  my  lady,  made 
the  round  with  her  in  the  ancient  fashion,  with  the  loud 
approval  of  the  spectators,  and  brouglit  her  back  to  her 
seat.     The  mazurka  v/as  over  soon  after  that. 

"  0  Lord!  Why  dost  Thou  punish  me  so  severely!" 

"Everybody  hates  me,  and  will  always  hate  me.  My 
road  is  barred  to  everything :  to  friendship,  to  love,  to 
honours,  —  everything  is  lost !  Why  did  Volodya  make 
signs  to  me,  which  everybody  could  see,  but  which  did  not 
help  me  ?  Why  did  that  abominable  princess  look  at  my 
legs  ?  Why  did  Sonichka  —  she  is  a  dear,  but  why  did 
she  smile  at  me  then  ?  Why  did  papa  blush  and  seize  my 
hand  ?  Is  it  possible  he,  too,  was  ashamed  of  me  ?  Oh, 
that  is  terrible  !  I  am  sure,  if  mamma  had  been  here,  she 
would  not  have  blushed  for  her  Nikolenka."  And  my 
imagination  was  transported  far,  after  that  sweet  image. 
I  recalled  the  meadow  in  front  of  the  house,  the  tall  linden- 
trees  of  the  garden,  the  clear  pond,  over  which  the  swal- 
lows circled,  the  azure  sky,  on  which  white,  transparent 
clouds  hovered,  the  fragrant  ricks  of  newly  mown  hay ; 
and  many  other  peaceful,  glowing  recollections  arose  in 
my  distracted  imagination. 


XXIII. 

AFTER    THE    MAZURKA 

At  supper,  the  young  man,  who  had  danced  with  the 
leading  pair,  seated  himself  at  our  children's  table,  and 
directed  his  especial  attention  to  me,  which  would  have 
flattered  my  egotism  greatly,  if  I  had  been  able  to  have 
any  sensations  after  the  misfortune  which  had  befallen 
me.  But  the  young  man,  it  seemed,  was  anxious  to  make 
ine  feel  happy  :  he  joked  with  me,  called  me  a  brave  fellow, 
and,  when  none  of  the  grown  people  were  looking  on, 
poured  into  my  wineglass  wine  from  all  kinds  of  bottles, 
and  insisted  that  I  should  drink  it.  Toward  the  end  of 
the  supper,  the  servant  filled  about  one-fourth  of  my  glass 
with  cliampagne  from  a  bottle  that  was  covered  with  a 
napkin,  but  the  young  man  demanded  that  he  should  fill 
it  to  its  brim.  He  compelled  me  to  gulp  it  down  at  one 
draught,  and  I  felt  a  gentle  warmth  permeating  my  body, 
and  took  a  special  liking  to  my  merry  protector,  and  for 
some  unknown  reason  laughed  out  loud. 

Suddenly  the  sounds  of  "  grandfather's "  dance  were 
heard  in  the  parlour,  and  people  rose  from  the  table.  My 
friendship  for  the  young  man  came  to  an  end  then  and 
there.  He  went  over  to  the  grown  people,  and  I  did  not 
dare  to  follow  him,  but  went  up  to  listen,  with  curiosity, 
to  what  Madame  Valakhin  was  saying  to  her  daughter. 

"  Only  half  an  hour  longer,"  Sonichka  said,  convinc- 
ingly. 

"  Really,  my  angel,  it  is  impossible.'* 

102 


AFTER    THE    MAZURKA  103 

"  Just  do  it  for  my  sake,  please,"  she  said,  fondling  her. 

"  Well,  will  you  be  happy,  if  I  shall  be  ill  to-morrow  ? " 
said  Madame  Yalakhin,  smiling  carelessly. 

"  Ah,  you  have  consented  !  Shall  we  stay  ?  "  called  out 
Sonichka,  jumping  up  with  delight. 

"  What  am  I  to  do  with  you  ?  Go,  dance  !  Here  is  a 
cavalier  for  you,"  she  said,  pointing  at  me. 

Sonichka  gave  me  her  hand,  and  we  ran  into  the 
parlour. 

The  wine  which  I  had  drunk  and  the  presence  and 
merriment  of  Sonichka  caused  me  completely  to  forget 
the  unfortunate  incident  of  the  mazurka.  I  did  the 
funniest  tricks  with  my  feet:  now  I  imitated  a  horse, 
and  ran  at  a  quick  trot,  proudly  raising  my  feet ;  now  I 
rattled  them  on  one  spot,  like  a  wether  that  is  angered  at 
a  dog,  and  all  the  time  laughed  from  the  depth  of  my 
soul,  not  being  in  the  least  concerned  what  impression  I 
produced  upon  the  spectators.  Sonichka,  too,  did  not 
cease  laughing:  she  laughed  because  we  were  circling 
around  and  holding  each  other's  hands ;  she  laughed  at 
some  elderly  gentleman,  who  slowly  raised  his  feet  in 
order  to  step  across  a  handkerchief,  making  it  appear  that 
it  was  very  hard  for  him  to  do ;  and 'she  nearly  died  with 
laughter,  wlien  I  jumped  almost  to  the  ceiling,  to  show 
her  my  agility. 

As  I  passed  through  grandmother's  cabinet,  I  looked  at 
myself  in  the  glass:  my  face  w^as  perspiring,  my  hair 
dishevelled ;  my  tufts  stuck  in  every  direction  ;  but  the 
general  expression  of  my  face  was  so  happy,  good-natured, 
and  healthy,  that  I  was  pleased  with  myself. 

"  If  I  were  always  as  I  am  now,"  thought  I,  "  I  should 
not  fail  to  please  others." 

But  when  I  again  glanced  at  the  pretty  face  of  my 
lady,  I  found  in  it,  in  addition  to  the  expression  of  merri- 
ment, health,  and  carelessness,  which  had  pleased  me  in 
my  own,  so  much  of  refined  and  gentle  beauty,  that  I 


104  CHILDHOOD 

grew  angry  at  myself :  1  understood  how  foolish  it  was 
for  me  to  hope  that  I  should  be  able  to  direct  toward 
myself  the  attention  of  so  charming  a  creature. 

I  could  not  hope  that  my  feelings  would  be  reciprocated, 
and  I  did  not  even  think  of  it:  my  soul  was  full  of 
happiness  as  it  was.  I  did  not  imagine  that  one  could 
demand  any  greater  happiness  than  the  sentiment  of  love, 
which  filled  all  my  soul  with  delight,  and  that  one  could 
desire  anything  other  than  that  this  sentiment  should 
never  come  to  an  end.  I  was  satisfied  as  it  was.  My 
heart  fluttered  like  a  dove,  the  blood  continually  rushed 
to  it,  and  I  felt  hke  weeping. 

When  we  passed  through  the  corridor,  near  the  dark 
lumber-room  under  the  staircase,  I  cast  a  glance  at  it,  and 
thought :  What  happiness  that  would  be  if  it  were  possible 
to  pass  an  eternity  with  her  in  that  dark  lumber-room, 
and  if  no  one  knew  that  we  were  living  there. 

"  Don't  you  think  w^e  have  had  a  jolly  time  to-night  ?  " 
I  said  in  a  quiet,  quivering  voice,  and  increased  my  steps, 
being  frightened  not  so  much  at  what  I  had  said,  as  at 
what  I  was  about  to  say. 

"  Yes,  very ! "  she  answered,  turning  her  head  to  me 
with  such  an  open  and  kind  expression  that  I  ceased 
being  afraid. 

"  Especially  after  supper.  But  if  you  knew  how  sorry 
I  am  (I  had  intended  to  say  "  unhappy  ")  that  you  are 
going  to  leave  soon,  and  that  we  shall  not  see  each  other 
again  ! " 

"  Why  should  we  not  see  each  otlier  ?  "  she  said,  looking 
sharply  at  the  tips  of  her  little  shoes,  and  passing  her 
fingers  over  the  trellis  by  which  we  were  walking.  "  Every 
Tuesday  and  Friday  mamma  and  I  drive  out  to  the  Tver 
Boulevard.     Don't  you  ever  drive  out  ? " 

"I  will  certainly  ask  next  Tuesday,  and  if  they  will 
not  let  me,  I  will  run  there  all  alone,  without  a  cap.  I 
know  the  road  well." 


AFTER   THE    MAZURKA  105 

"  Do  you  know  what  ? "  suddenly  said  Sonichka.  "  I 
always  say  '  thou  '  to  the  boys  that  come  to  see  me.  Let 
us  speak  '  thou  '  to  each  other  !  Dost  thou  want  it  ? "  she 
added,  shaking  her  little  head,  and  looking  straight  into 
my  eyes. 

We  were  just  entering  the  parlour,  and  another  lively 
part  of  the  "  grandfather's "  dance  was  at  that  moment 
beginning.  "  I  will,  with  —  you,"  I  said,  when  the  music 
and  noise  could  drown  my  words. 

"  With  thee,  not  with  you,"  Sonichka  corrected  me,  and 
burst  out  laughing. 

The  "  grandfather  "  came  to  an  end,  and  I  had  not  yet 
succeeded  in  using  a  single  phrase  with  "  thou,"  although 
I  kept  on  composing  such  as  would  contain  that  pronoun 
several  times.  I  did  not  have  the  courage  for  it.  "  Dost 
thou  want  ? "  and  "  Come  thou "  resounded  in  my  ears, 
and  produced  a  kind  of  intoxication :  I  saw  nothing  and 
nobody  but  Sonichka.  I  saw  how  they  lifted  her  locks, 
pushed  them  behind  her  ears,  and  laid  bare  parts  of  her 
brow  and  temples  which  I  had  not  yet  seen.  I  saw 
her  being  wrapped  in  her  green  shawl  so  tightly  that  only 
the  tip  of  her  nose  was  visible.  1  noticed  that  if  she 
had  not  made  a  small  opening  near  her  mouth  with  her 
rosy  little  fingers,  she  would  certainly  have  strangled,  and 
I  saw  how,  while  descending  the  staircase  with  her  mother, 
she  rapidly  turned  around  to  us,  nodded  her  head,  and 
disappeared  behind  the  door. 

Volodya,  the  Ivins,  the  young  prince,  and  I,  we  all 
were  in  love  with  Sonichka  and,  standing  on  the  staircase, 
saw  her  out  with  our  eyes.  I  do  not  know  whom  in 
particular  she  greeted  with  the  nod  of  her  head,  but  at 
that  moment  I  was  firmly  convinced  that  she  meant  it 
for  me. 

When  I  bade  the  Ivins  good-bye,  I  very  freely,  even 
coldly,  spoke  with  Serezha,  and  pressed  his  hand.  If  he 
understood  that  with  that  day  he  had  lost  my  love  and 


106  CHILUIIOUU 

his  power  over  me,  he  dou])tless  was  sorry  for  it,  though 
he  endeavoured  to  be  as  indifferent  as  possible. 

It  was  the  lirst  time  in  my  life  that  I  was  false  to  my 
love,  and  for  the  first  time  1  experienced  the  pleasure  of 
that  sensation.  It  was  a  joy  for  me  to  exchange  my  worn- 
out  sentiment  of  habitual  loyalty  for  the  fresh  sentiment 
of  love,  full  of  mystery  and  uncertainty.  Besides,  to 
fall  in  love  and  cease  loving  at  the  same  time  means 
to  love  twice  as  much  as  before. 


XXIV. 

IN     BED 

"  How  could  I  have  loved  Ser^zha  so  long  and  so 
passionately  ? "  I  reflected,  lying  in  bed.  "  No,  he  never 
understood,  never  could  appreciate  my  love,  and  was  not 
worthy  of  it.  But  Sdnichka  ?  What  a  charming  girl ! 
'  Dost  thou  want ! '     'It  is  for  thee  to  begin  ! ' " 

In  my  vivid  representation  of  her  face,  I  jumped  up 
on  all  fours,  then  covered  my  head  with  my  coverlet, 
tucked  it  all  around  me,  and,  when  there  were  no  openings 
left,  lay  down  and,  experiencing  a  gentle  warmth,  was  lost 
in  sweet  dreams  and  memories.  I  fixed  my  immovable 
eyes  upon  the  under  side  of  the  quilt,  and  saw  her  face  as 
distinctly  as  an  hour  before.  I  mentally  conversed  with 
her,  and  that  conversation  gave  me  indescribable  pleasure, 
though  it  had  absolutely  no  sense,  because  it  was  com- 
posed of  so  many  repetitions  of  "  thou,"  "  to  thee,"  "  thy," 
and  "  thine." 

These  dreams  were  so  distinct  that  I  could  not  fall 
asleep  from  pleasurable  agitation,  and  was  desirous  of 
sharing  the  superabundance  of  my  happiness  with  some- 
body. 

"  Darling ! "  I  said  almost  aloud,  abruptly  turning 
around  on  my  other  side.     "  Volodya,  are  you  asleep  ? " 

"  No,"  he  answered  me  with  a  sleepy  voice,  "  what  is 
it?" 

"  I  am  in  love,  Volodya,  desperately  in  love  with 
Sdnichka !  " 

107 


108  CniLDlTOOD 

"  Well,  what  of  it  ? "  he  answered  me,  stretching  him- 
self. 

"  0  Volodya  I  You  can't  imagine  what  is  going  on  in 
me.  I  had  just  rolled  in  my  coverlet  when  I  saw  her 
and  heard  her  so  distinctly,  so  distinctly,  that  it  is  really 
wonderful !  And  do  you  know  ?  when  I  lie  and  think  of 
her,  I  feel  sad,  God  knows  why,  and  I  want  to  cry 
awfully." 

Volodya  moved  restlessly. 

"  I  wish  only  for  one  thing,"  continued  I,  "  and  that  is, 
always  to  be  with  her,  always  to  see  her,  and  nothing  else. 
Are  you  in  love  ?     Confess   really,  do,  Volodya  ! " 

It  is  strange,  but  I  wanted  everybody  to  be  in  love  with 
Sonichka,  and  I  wanted  everybody  to  talk  about  it. 

"  That  is  not  your  business,"  said  Vol()dya,  turning  his 
face  toward  me.     "  Maybe." 

"  You  do  not  want  to  sleep,  you  only  pretended  ! "  I 
called  out,  when  I  noticed  by  his  burning  eyes  that  he 
did  not  even  think  of  sleeping,  and  had  thrown  off  his 
coverlet.  "  Let  us  talk  about  her.  Don't  you  think  she 
is  fine  ?  She  is  so  charming  that  if  she  were  to  command 
me :  '  Nikolenka,  jump  out  of  the  window ! '  or,  '  throw 
yourself  into  the  hre  ! '  I  swear  to  you,"  said  I,  "  I  should 
with  pleasure  do  so.  Oh,  what  a  charming  girl!"  I 
added,  vividly  imagining  her  before  me ;  and,  completely 
to  enjoy  that  image,  I  abruptly  turned  on  my  other  side 
and  stuck  my  head  under  the  pillows.  "  Volodya,  I  want 
to  cry  awfully." 

"  You  are  a  fool ! "  he  said,  smiling,  and  then  kept 
silent  for  a  moment.  "  I  am  entirely  different  from  you ; 
I  think  that  if  it  were  possible,  I  should  want  at  first  to 
sit  by  her  side  and  talk  with  her  —  " 

"  Oh,  so  you  are  in  love,  too  ? "  I  interrupted  him. 

"  Then,"  continued  Volodya,  smiling  gently,  "  then  I 
should  kiss  her  little  fingers,  her  eyes,  lips,  nose,  feet, — 
I  should  kiss  her  all  over  —  " 


IN   BED  109 

"  Nonsense !  "  I  cried  out  from  under  my  pillows. 

"  You  do  not  understand  anything,"  contemptuously 
said  Volddya. 

"  No,  I  understand,  but  you  do  not,  and  you  are  talking 
nonsense,"  said  I,  through  tears. 

"  But  there  is  no  reason  for  weeping.     A  regular  girl  I " 


;.:-i 


XXV. 

THE    LETTER 

On  the  16th  of  April,  almost  six  months  after  the 
day  which  I  have  just  described,  father  came  up-stairs, 
during  classes,  and  announced  to  us  that  we  were  going 
home  with  him  that  very  night.  Something  pinched  me 
at  my  heart,  when  I  heard  the  news,  and  my  thouglits  at 
once  reverted  to  my  mother. 

Our  sudden  departure  was  the  result  of  the  following 
letter  : 

Petrovskoe,  April  12th. 

"I  received  your  kind  letter  of  April  3d  just  a  httle 
while  ago,  at  ten  o'clock  in  the  evening,  and,  as  is  my  cus- 
tom, I  am  replying  to  it  immediately.  F^dor  brought  it 
from  town  yesterday,  but  as  it  was  late,  he  handed  it  to 
Mimi  this  morning.  Mimi  did  not  give  it  to  me  all  day, 
under  the  pretext  that  I  was  nervous  and  ill.  I  had,  in 
reality,  a  little  fever  and,  to  confess,  this  is  the  fourth  day 
that  I  have  not  been  feehng  well  and  have  not  left  the 
bed. 

"  Please,  do  not  get  frightened,  my  dear  one.  I  feel 
quite  well,  and,  if  Ivan  Vasilich  will  permit,  shall  get  up 
to-morrow. 

"  On  Friday  of  last  week  I  went  out  driving  with  the 
children  ;  but  at  the  very  entrance  upon  the  highway,  near 
the  bridge  which  always  frightens  me  so,  the  horses  stuck 
in  the  mud.     It  was  a  fine  day,  and  I  thought  I  should 

110 


THE    LETTER  111 

walk  as  far  as  the  highway,  while  they  extricated  the 
carriage.  When  I  reached  the  chapel  I  grew  very  tired, 
and  sat  down  to  rest ;  but  before  the  people  came  to  pull 
out  the  carriage,  almost  half  an  hour  passed,  and  I  began 
to  feel  cold,  particularly  in  my  feet,  because  I  had  on  thin- 
soled  shoes,  and  they  were  wet.  After  dinner  I  felt  a 
chill  and  a  fever,  but  kept  on  my  feet,  as  is  my  habit,  and 
after  tea  sat  down  to  play  duets  with  Lyiibochka.  (You 
will  not  recognize  her,  —  she  has  made  such  progress  !) 
But  imagine  my  surprise  when  I  discovered  that  I  could 
not  count  the  beats.  I  started  several  times  to  count,  but 
everything  got  mixed  up  in  my  head,  and  I  heard  strange 
sounds  in  my  ears.  I  counted :  one,  two,  three,  and  then 
suddenly :  eight,  fifteen  ;  and  (which  is  the  main  thing),  I 
knew  I  was  not  doing  right,  but  could  not  correct  myself. 
Finally  Mimi  came  to  my  aid,  and  almost  using  force,  put 
me  to  bed.  Here  you  have,  my  dear  one,  a  detailed  ac- 
count of  how  I  grew  ill,  and  how  it  is  all  my  fault.  The 
next  day  I  had  a  pretty  high  fever,  and  our  good  old  Ivan 
Vasilich  came.  He  has  been  staying  at  our  house  ever 
since,  and  he  promised  me  he  would  soon  let  me  out  in 
the  air  again.  A  splendid  old  man  is  this  Ivan  Vasilich  ! 
When  I  was  feverish  and  delirious  he  stayed  at  my  bed 
all  night  long,  without  closing  his  eyes ;  but  now,  seeing 
that  I  am  writing,  hs  is  staying  with  the  girls  in  the  sofa- 
room,  and  I  can  hear  from  my  chamber  how  he  is  telling 
them  German  stories  and  how  they,  listening  to  them,  are 
dying  with  laughter. 

"  La  belle  Flamande,  as  you  call  her,  has  been  my 
guest  for  two  weeks,  because  her  mother  has  gone  to  make 
visits,  and  she  proves  her  sincere  attachment  by  her  care 
of  me.  She  confides  aU  the  secrets  of  her  heart  to  me. 
With  her  pretty  face,  good  heart,  and  youth,  she  could 
become  a  beautiful  girl  in  every  respect  if  she  were  in 
good  hands ;  but  in  the  society  in  which  she  lives,  to 
judge  by  her  own  story,  she  will  be  completely  ruined. 


112  CHILDHOOD 

It  has  occurred  to  me  that  if  I  did  not  have  so  many 
children  of  my  own,  I  should  be  doing  a  good  act  if  I 
took  her  into  my  house. 

"  Lyiibochka  wanted  to  write  to  you  herself,  but  she 
has  torn  her  third  sheet,  and  she  says :  '  I  know  what  a 
scoffer  papa  is  ;  if  I  make  one  mistake,  he  will  show  it  to 
everybody.'  Katenka  is  as  dear  as  ever,  and  Mimi  is  as 
good  and  tiresome. 

"  Now  let  us  speak  of  something  serious  :  you  are  writ- 
ing me  that  your  affairs  are  not  going  well  this  winter, 
and  that  you  will  be  compelled  to  take  some  Khabarovka 
money.  It  is  strange  to  me  that  you  even  ask  my  con- 
sent. Does  not  that  which  belongs  to  me  equally  belong 
to  you  ? 

"  You  are  so  good,  my  dear  one,  that  for  fear  of  griev- 
ing me  you  are  hiding  the  actual  condition  of  your  affairs, 
but  I  guess  you  have  lost  much  at  cards,  and  I  am  not  in 
the  least,  I  swear  it,  aggrieved  at  the  fact,  so  that,  if  this 
affair  can  be  straightened  out,  please  don't  spend  much 
thought  over  it,  or  vainly  worry  about  the  matter.  I  have 
become  accustomed  not  to  count  on  your  winnings  for  our 
children,  not  even,  you  will  forgive  me  for  saying  so,  on 
your  property.  Your  winnings  give  me  as  little  pleasure 
as  your  losses  grieve  me ;  I  am  only  grieved  at  your  un- 
fortunate passion  for  gaming,  which  robs  me  of  a  part  of 
your  tender  attachment  for  me,  and  compels  you  to  tell 
such  bitter  truths  as  those  you  are  telling  me  now,  —  and 
Grod  knows  how  that  pains  me  !  I  never  cease  praying 
to  Him  that  He  may  deliver  us,  not  from  poverty  (what 
is  poverty  ?),  but  from  that  terrible  condition  when  the 
interests  of  our  children,  which  I  shall  have  to  protect, 
will  come  in  conflict  with  our  own.  Thus  far  God  has 
fulfilled  my  prayer  ;  you  have  not  crossed  the  one  line, 
after  which  we  shall  have  either  to  sacrifice  our  property, 
which  no  longer  belongs  to  us,  but  to  our  children,  or  — 
it  is  terrible  to  think  of  it,  and  yet  we  are  threatened  by 


THE    LETTER 


113 


a  terrible  misfortune.  Yes,  it  is  a  heavy  cross  the  Lord 
has  sent  us  both. 

"  You  are  writing  me  about  the  children,  and  return 
to  our  old  quarrel:  you  ask  my  permission  to  send  them 
to  some  educational  establishment.  You  know  my  preju- 
dice against  such  an  education. 

"  I  do  not  know,  my  dear  one,  whether  you  will  agree 
with  me ;  in  any  case,  I  implore  you,  for  the  sake  of  our 
love,  to  promise  me  that  as  long  as  1  am  alive,  and  after 
my  death,  if  it  shall  please  God  to  sepai'ate  us,  this  shall 
not  happen. 

"  You  tell  me  that  it  will  be  necessary  for  you  to  go  to 
St.  Petersburg  about  our  affairs.  Christ  be  with  you,  my 
friend !  go  and  come  back  as  soon  as  possible !  We  all 
feel  very  lonely  without  you.  The  spring  is  remarkably 
fine ;  the  balcony  door  has  already  been  put  out ;  the  path 
in  the  greenhouse  was  completely  dry  four  days  ago ; 
the  peaches  are  in  full  bloom ;  only  here  and  there 
patches  of  snow  are  left ;  the  swallows  have  returned  ; 
and  to-day  Lyubochka  has  brought  me  the  first  spring 
flowers.  The  doctor  says  that  in  three  or  four  days  I 
shall  be  quite  well  again,  and  able  to  In-eathe  the  fresh 
air,  and  warm  myself  in  the  April  kSuu.  Good-bye,  my 
dear  one !  Please,  do  not  worry,  neither  about  my  illness 
nor  about  your  losses ;  settle  your  affairs  as  soon  as  pos- 
sible, and  come  back  to  us  with  the  children  for  the 
whole  summer.  I  am  making  wonderful  plans  as  to  how 
we  are  going  to  pass  it,  and  you  only  are  wanting  to 
materialize  them." 

The  following  part  of  the  letter  was  in  French,  in  a 
closely  written  and  uneven  hand,  and  upon  a  different 
piece  of  paper,      I  translate  it  word  for  word : 

"Don't  believe  what"  I  am  writing  you  about  my  ill- 
ness ;  nobody  suspects  to  what  degree  it  is  serious.  I 
alone  know  that  I  shall  never  rise  from  bed  again.     Do 


114  CHILDHOOD 

not  lose  a  single  minute,  and  come  at  once,  and  bring  the 
children  with  you.  Maybe,  I  shall  live  long  enough  to 
embrace  and  bless  them ;  that  is  my  one  last  wish.  I 
know  what  a  blow  I  am  striking  you,  but  you  would  all 
the  same,  sooner  or  later,  receive  it  from  me,  or  from 
others.  Let  us  try  with  fortitude  and  with  hope  in  the 
mercy  of  God  to  bear  this  misfortune !  Let  us  submit  to 
His  will  1 

"  Do  not  imagine  that  what  I  write  is  the  delirium  of 
a  diseased  imagination ;  on  the  contrary,  my  thoughts  are 
unusually  clear  at  this  moment,  and  I  am  perfectly  calm. 
Do  not  console  yourself  in  vain  with  the  hope  that  these 
are  false  and  dim  presentiments  of  a  fearsome  soul.  No, 
I  feel,  I  know,  —  and  I  know  because  it  has  pleased  God 
to  reveal  it  to  me,  —  that  I  am  to  live  only  a  short  time. 

"  Will  my  love  for  you  and  my  children  end  together 
with  my  life  ?  I  have  come  to  understand  that  this  is 
impossible.  I  feel  too  strongly  this  minute,  to  think  that 
the  feeling  without  which  I  cannot  understand  existence 
should  ever  be  annihilated.  My  soul  cannot  exist  with- 
out love  for  you ;  and  I  know  that  it  will  exist  for  ever, 
for  this  reason  alone,  if  for  no  other,  that  such  a  feeling 
as  my  love  could  not  have  originated,  if  it  were  ever  to 
come  to  an  end. 

"  I  shall  not  be  with  you ;  but  I  am  firmly  convinced 
that  my  love  will  never  leave  you,  and  this  thought  is  so 
comforting  to  my  soul  that  I  await  my  approaching  death 
in  peace  and  without  fear. 

"  I  am  calm,  and  God  knows  that  I  have  always 
looked  at  death  as  a  transition  to  a  better  life ;  but  why 
do  tears  choke  me  ?  Wherefore  are  the  children  to  lose 
their  beloved  mother  ?  Why  should  such  a  blow  be 
struck  you  ?  Why  must  I  die,  when  your  love  has 
made  me  boundlessly  happy  ? 

"  His  holy  will  be  done  ! 

"  I  cannot  write  any  more  for  tears.     Maybe  I  shall 


THE    LETTER  115 

not  see  you  again.  So  I  thank  you,  my  truest  friend,  for 
all  the  happiness  with  which  you  liave  surrounded  me  in 
this  life ,  and  there,  I  will  ask  God  that  He  may  reward 
you.  Good-bye,  my  dear  one  !  Remember  that  I  shall  be 
no  more,  but  my  love  will  never  and  in  no  place  leave 
you.  Good-bye,  Volodya,  good-bye,  my  angel !  Good-bye, 
my  Benjamin,  my    Nikolenka  ! 

"  Will  they  ever  forget  me  ? " 

In  this  letter  was  enclosed  a  French  note  from  Mimi, 
of  the  following  contents  : 

"  The  sad  presentiments,  of  which  she  tells  you,  have 
been  only  too  well  confirmed  by  the  doctor.  Last  night 
she  ordered  this  letter  to  be  taken  to  the  post.  Thinking 
that  she  said  that  in  her  delirium,  I  waited  until  this 
morning,  and  decided  to  break  the  seal.  No  sooner  had 
I  opened  it,  than  ISTatalya  Nikolaevna  asked  me  what  I 
had  done  with  the  letter,  and  ordered  me  to  burn  it,  if 
it  had  not  yet  been  sent.  She  speaks  of  it  continually, 
and  assures  us  that  it  will  kill  you.  Do  not  delay  your 
journey,  if  you  wish  to  see  this  angel  before  she  has  left 
you.  Pardon  this  scrawl.  I  have  not  slept  these  three 
nights.     You  kaow  how  I  love  her !  " 

Natalya  Savishna,  who  had  passed  the  whole  night  of 
the  11th  of  April  in  mother's  chamber,  told  me  that 
having  written  the  first  part  of  her  letter,  mamma  put 
it  near  her  on  the  table,  and  fell  asleep. 

"  I  myself,"  said  Natalya  Savishna,  "  I  must  confess, 
dozed  off  in  the  chair,  and  the  stocking  fell  out  of  my 
hands.  Then  in  my  sleep,  about  one  o'clock,  I  heard  her 
talk.  I  opened  my  eyes :  there  she,  my  httle  dove,  was 
sitting  in  her  bed,  folding  her  arms  just  hke  this,  and  her 
tears  were  pouring  down  in  three  streams.  '  So  all  is 
ended  ? '  was  all  she  said,  and  covered  her  face  with 
her  hands. 

"  I  jumped  up,  and  began  to  ask  her  what  the  matter 
was  with  her. 


116  CHILDHOOD 

"*Ah,  Natal ya  Savishna,  if  you  only  knew  whom  I 
saw  just  now  ! ' 

"  No  matter  how  much  I  asked  her,  she  would  not 
answer  me.  She  only  ordered  me  to  put  the  small  table 
near  her,  then  wrote  something  more  in  the  letter,  told 
me  to  seal  it  in  her  presence,  and  to  send  it  away  at 
once.     After  that  everything  went  worse  and  worse." 


XXVL 

WHAT    AWAITED    US    IN    THE    COUNTRY 

On  the  25th  of  April  we  dismounted  from  the  road 
carriage,  at  the  veranda  of  the  Petrovskoe  house.  When 
we  left  Moscow,  papa  was  lost  in  thought,  and  upon 
Volodya's  asking  whether  mamma  was  not  ill,  he 
looked  at  him  with  sadness,  and  silently  nodded  his 
head.  During  the  journey,  he  became  perceptibly  calmer ; 
but  as  we  approached  our  home,  his  face  assumed  an  even 
more  sad  expression,  and  when,  upon  leaving  the  carriage, 
he  asked  of  Foka,  who  came  running  out  of  breath : 
"  Where  is  Natalya  Nikolaevna  ? "  his  voice  was  not  firm, 
and  there  were  tears  in  his  eyes.  Good  old  Foka  stealth- 
ily looked  at  us,  dropped  his  eyes,  and,  opening  the  door 
to  the  antechamber,  answered,  with  his  face  turned 
away : 

"  This  is  the  sixth  day  she  has  not  left  the  chamber," 
Milka,  who,  as  I  later  learned,  had  not  stopped  whin- 
ing since  the  first  day  when  mamma  became  ill,  joy- 
fully rushed  up  to  father,  junjped  on  him,  whined,  and 
licked  his  hands ;  but  he  pushed  her  aside  and  went 
into  the  sitting-room,  thence  into  the  sofa-room,  from 
which  a  door  led  straight  into  mamma's  chamber.  The 
nearer  he  approached  this  room,  the  more  his  unrest 
was  to  be  noticed  in  all  his  movements.  As  he  entered 
the  sofa-room,  he  walked  on  tiptoe,  barely  drew  breath, 
and  made  the  sign  of  the  cross  before  he  had  the  courage 
to  turn  the  latch  of  the  closed  door.     Just  then,  unkempt, 

117 


118  CHILDHOOD 

weeping  Mimi  came  ruuuing  in  from  the  corridor.  "  Ah, 
Peter  Aleksandrych  ! "  she  said  in  a  whisper,  with  an  ex- 
pression of  real  despair,  and  then,  noticing  that  papa  was 
turning  the  latch  of  the  door,  added  scarcely  audibly : 
"  You  can't  pass  through  here ;  you  have  to  go  in  through 
the  outer  door." 

Oh,  how  heavily  all  that  acted  upon  my  childish  im- 
agination, which  was  prepared  for  sorrow  by  some  terrible 
presentiment ! 

We  went  into  the  maids'  room.  In  the  corridor  we 
ran  against  fool  Akim,  who  used  to  amuse  us  with  his 
grimaces ;  at  this  moment  he  not  only  did  not  seem 
funny  to  me,  but  nothing  struck  me  so  painfully  as  the 
appearance  of  his  meaningless,  indifferent  face.  In  the 
maids'  room  two  servant  girls,  who  were  sitting  at 
some  work,  rose  to  greet  us,  but  the  expression  of  their 
faces  was  so  sad  that  I  felt  terribly.  Passing  through 
Mimi's  room,  papa  opened  the  door  of  the  chamber,  and 
we  entered.  To  the  right  of  the  door  were  two  windows, 
which  were  darkened  by  shawls ;  at  one  of  these,  Natalya 
Savishna  was  seated,  witli  spectacles  on  her  nose,  and 
was  knitting  a  stocking.  She  did  not  rise  to  kiss  us,  as 
she  was  in  the  habit  of  doing,  but  only  raised  herself  a 
httle,  glanced  at  us  through  her  spectacles,  and  her  tears 
began  to  flow  in  streams.  I  did  not  like  it  at  all  that  at 
the  first  sight  of  us  they  all  started  weeping,  while  just 
before  they  were  calm. 

To  the  left  of  the  door  stood  a  screen,  behind  the 
screen  a  bed,  a  small  table,  a  medicine  box,  and  a  large 
armchair,  in  which  the  doctor  was  dozing.  Near  the  bed 
stood  a  very  blond  young  lady  of  remarkable  beauty,  in 
a  white  morning  gown,  and,  rolling  up  her  sleeves  a  little, 
she  put  ice  to  the  head  of  mamma,  whom  I  was  able  to 
see.  This  young  lady  was  In  helle  Flnynande,  of  whom 
mamma  had  written,  and  who  later  on  was  to  play  such 
an  important  part  in  the  life  of  our  whole  family.     The 


WHAT    AWAITED    US    IN    THE    COUNTRY         119 

moment  we  entered,  she  took  one  hand  away  from 
mamma's  head,  and  arranged  over  her  breast  the  folds  of 
her  gown,  then  said  in  a  whisper :  "  She  is  unconscious." 

I  was  in  great  anguish  then,  but  I  noticed  all  the  de- 
tails. It  was  almost  dark  in  the  room,  and  warm,  and 
there  was  a  mingled  odour  of  mint,  eau  de  cologne,  cam- 
omile, and  Hoffmann's  drops.  That  odour  struck  me  so 
powerfully  that  not  only  when  I  smell  it,  but  even  when 
I  think  of  it,  my  imagination  immediately  transfers  me 
into  that  gloomy,  close  room,  and  reproduces  all  the 
minutest  details  of  that  terrible  moment. 

Mamma's  eyes  were  open,  but  she  did  not  see  anything. 
Oh,  I  shall  never  forget  that  terrible  look !  There  was 
so  much  suffering  expressed  in  it. 

We  were  taken  away. 

Wlien  I  later  asked  Natalya  Savishna  about  the  last 
moments  of  my  mother,  she  told  me  this : 

"  When  you  were  taken  away,  my  little  dove  kept  on 
tossing  for  a  long  time,  as  though  something  were  chok- 
ing her  here  ;  then  she  dropped  her  head  from  the  pillows, 
and  fell  asleep,  as  softly  and  calmly  as  if  she  were  an 
angel  of  heaven.  I  had  just  gone  out  to  see  why  they 
were  not  bringing  the  drink,  —  and  when  I  came  back, 
she,  the  treasure  of  my  heart,  had  thrown  off  everything 
about  her,  and  was  beckoning  to  father.  He  bent  down 
to  her,  but  she  evidently  had  no  strength  to  say  what  she 
wanted ;  she  only  opened  her  lips,  and  began  to  sigh : 
'My  Lord!  God!  The  children!  The  children!'  I 
wanted  to  run  for  you,  but  Ivan  Vasilich  stopped  me, 
saying  that  it  would  excite  her  too  much,  and  that  it 
would  be  better  not  to  call  you.  Then  she  only  lifted 
her  hand,  and  let  it  fall  again.  God  knows  what  she 
meant  to  say  by  it !  I  think  she  was  blessing  you, 
though  you  were  out  of  sight ;  and  thus  God  has  decreed 
that  she  should  not  see  her  children  before  her  last  mo- 
ments.    Then  she  raised  herself,  my  little  dove,  folded 


120  CHILDHOOD 

her  little  hands  just  like  this,  and  then  spoke  in  a  voice 
that  I  can't  repeat :  *  Mother  of  God,  do  not  desert  them  ! ' 
By  this  time  the  agony  had  reached  her  heart,  and  one 
might  see  by  her  eyes  that  the  poor  woman  was  suffering 
terribly :  she  fell  back  on  her  pillows,  bit  the  sheet,  and 
her  tears  began  to  flow  in  streams." 

"  Well,  and  then  ? " 

Natalya  could  not  speak  any  more :  she  turned  her 
face  away,  and  burst  into  tears. 

Mamma  had  passed  away  amidst  terrible  sufferings. 


XXVII. 

GRIEF 

The  next  day,  late  in  the  evening,  I  wanted  to  take 
another  look  at  her :  overcoming  an  involuntary  feeling 
of  terror,  I  softly  opened  the  door,  and  walked  into  the 
parlour  on  tiptoe. 

In  the  middle  of  the  room  stood  the  coffin  on  a  table ; 
around  it  were  burning  candles  in  tall  silver  candlesticks ; 
in  the  distant  corner  sat  the  sexton,  and  in  a  monotonous 
voice  read  the  psalter. 

I  stopped  at  the  door  and  began  to  look,  but  my  eyes 
were  so  red  with  tears,  and  my  nerves  were  so  unstrung, 
that  I  could  not  make  out  anything.  Everything  was 
strangely  running  together :  the  light,  the  brocade,  the 
velvet,  the  tall  candlesticks,  the  rose-coloured  lace-bor- 
dered pillow,  the  crown,  the  cap  with  its  ribbons,  and 
something  translucent,  cf  a  wax-colour.  I  stood  on 
a  chair,  in  order  to  see  her  face ;  but  I  imagined  I  saw 
in  the  place  where  it  ought  to  have  been  the  same  pale 
yellow,  translucent  object.  I  could  not  believe  that  it 
was  her  face.  I  began  to  look  more  closely  at  it,  and  by 
degrees  recognized  the  familiar  teatures  which  were  so 
dear  to  me.  I  shuddered  from  terror,  when  I  convinced 
myself  that  it  was  she.  But  why  were  her  closed  eyes 
so  sunken  ?  Why  this  terrible  pallor,  and  the  black  spot 
under  the  transparent  skin  on  one  of  her  cheeks  ?  Why 
was  the  expression  of  her  whole  face  so  severe  and  cold  ? 
Why  were  her  lips  so  pale,  and  their  position  so  beautiful, 

121 


122  CHILDHOOD 

SO  majestic,  and  expressing  such  an  unearthly  calm  that 
a  cold  chill  passed  over  my  back  and  hair,  as  I  looked  at 
her  ? 

I  looked,  and  felt  that  a  certain  incomprehensible,  irre- 
sistible power  was  attracting  my  eyes  to  that  lifeless  face. 
I  riveted  my  gaze  upon  it,  and  my  imagination  painted 
for  me  pictures  abloom  with  life  and  happiness.  I  forgot 
that  the  dead  body,  which  was  lying  before  me  and  at 
which  I  was  looking  meaninglessly,  as  at  an  object  which 
had  nothing  in  common  with  my  memories,  was  she.  I 
imagined  her  now  in  one,  now  in  another  situation :  alive, 
merry,  smihng ;  then  I  was  suddenly  struck  by  some 
feature  in  her  pale  face,  upon  which  my  eyes  were  rest- 
ing ;  I  recalled  the  terrible  reality,  and  shuddered,  but  did 
not  cease  looking  at  it.  And  again  dreams  took  the  place 
of  reality,  and  again  the  consciousness  of  reality  destroyed 
my  dreams.  Finally  my  imagination  grew  tired,  it  no 
longer  deceived  me.  The  consciousness  of  reality  also 
disappeared,  and  I  completely  forgot  myself.  I  do  not 
know  how  long  I  remained  in  that  condition,  and  I  do 
not  know  what  it  really  was ;  I  know  only  that  I  lost, 
for  some  time,  the  consciousness  of  my  whole  existence, 
and  experienced  some  elevated,  inexpressibly  pleasant  and 
sad  sensation. 

Maybe,  as  she  was  flying  away  to  a  better  world,  her 
beautiful  soul  looked  back  in  sorrow  at  the  one  in  which 
she  left  us.  She  noticed  my  sadness,  took  pity  on  me,  and 
upon  pinions  of  love,  with  a  heavenly  smile  of  sympathy, 
winged  her  way  to  earth,  in  order  to  console  and  bless 
me. 

The  door  creaked,  and  another  sexton  entered  the  room 
to  take  the  place  of  the  first.  That  noise  woke  me,  and 
the  first  thought  that  came  to  me  was  that  inasmuch  as  I 
was  not  weeping,  and  was  standing  upon  the  chair  in  an 
attitude  which  had  hi  it  nothing  of  a  touching  nature,  the 
sexton   might  take   me   for  an  unfeeling  boy,  who  had 


GRIEF  1^^ 

climbed  upon  the  chair  out  of  discomfort  or  curiosity ;  I 
made  the  sign  of  tlie  cross,  bowed,  and  fell  to  weeping. 

As  I  now  recall  my  impressions,  I  find  that  only  that 
minute  of  self-forgetfulness  was  a  real  grief.  Before  and 
after  the.  funeral,  I  did  not  stop  weeping,  and  was  sad,  but 
I  am  ashamed  to  think  of  that  sadness,  because  it  was 
always  mingled  with  some  selfish  feeling.  Now  it  was  the 
desire  to  show  that  I  was  grieved  more  than  the  rest,  now 
the  anxiety  about  the  effect  I  was  producing  on  the 
others,  now  an  aimless  curiosity,  which  caused  me  to 
make  observations  on  Mimi's  bonnet,  and  the  faces  of  the 
people  present.  I  hated  myself  because  I  did  not  experi- 
ence exclusively  a  sentiment  of  sorrow,  and  endeavoured 
to  conceal  all  the  other  feelings ;  for  this  reason  my  grief 
was  not  sincere  nor  natural.  Besides,  I  experienced  a 
certain  pleasure  from  the  knowledge  that  I  was  unhappy, 
and  tried  to  awaken  the  consciousness  of  misfortune,  and 
this  egoistical  feehng  more  than  any  other  drowned  my 
real  sorrow  in  me. 

Having  slept  soundly  and  calmly  through  the  night,  as 
is  always  the  case  after  gTeat  bereavement,  I  awoke  with 
dried  eyes  and  soothed  nerves.  At  ten  o'clock  we  were 
called  to  the  mass  which  was  celebrated  before  the 
funeral.  The  room  was  tilled  with  servants  and  peasants, 
who,  all  of  them  in  tears,  had  come  to  bid  their  mistress 
farewell.  During  the  service  I  wept  decently,  made  the 
signs  of  the  cross,  and  bowed  to  the  ground,  but  I  did  not 
pray  with  sincerity,  and  was  sufficiently  indifferent ;  I 
was  concerned  about  the  new  half-dress  coat  which  they 
had  put  on  me,  and  which  was  tight  under  my  arms ;  I 
was  thinking  how  to  keep  from  soiling  my  pantaloons  at 
the  knees,  and  stealthily  made  observations  upon  all  the 
people  present.  Father  stood  at  the  head  of  the  coffin, 
was  as  pale  as  a  sheet,  and  with  evident  difficulty  re- 
strained his  tears.  His  tall  stature  in  the  black  dress 
coat,   his   pale,    expressive    countenance,    and    his    usual 


124  CHILDHOOD 

graceful  and  confident  movements,  whenever  he  made  the 
sign  of  the  cross,  bowed,  reaching  the  floor  with  his  hand, 
took  the  candle  out  of  the  priest's  hands,  or  walked  up  to 
the  coffin,  were  exceedingly  effective ;  but  I  do  not  know 
why,  I  did  not  like  his  being  able  to  produce  such  an 
effect  at  that  particular  moment. 

Mimi  was  leaning  against  the  wall  and,  it  seemed, 
barely  could  stand  on  her  feet ;  her  dress  was  crushed 
and  full  of  feathers,  and  her  cap  was  on  one  side ;  her 
swollen  eyes  were  red,  her  head  was  shaking ;  she  sobbed 
without  interruption  in  a  heartrending  voice,  and  con- 
tinually covered  her  face  with  a  handkerchief  and  with 
her  hands.  It  seemed  to  me  that  she  did  so,  in  order  to 
hide  her  face  from  the  spectators,  when  resting  a  moment 
from  her  simulated  sobs.  I  recalled  how  the  day  before 
she  told  father  that  mamma's  death  was  a  terrible  blow 
to  her,  from  which  she  never  expected  to  recover,  that 
she  had  lost  everything  in  mother,  that  this  angel  (so 
she  called  mamma)  had  not  forgotten  her  before  her 
death,  and  had  expressed  her  desire  of  safeguarding 
her  future  and  that  of  Katenka.  She  shed  bitter  tears, 
while  telling  this,  and  it  may  be  that  the  feeling  of  sor- 
row was  genuine,  but  it  was  not  pure  and  exclusive. 
Lyubochka,  in  a  black  dress,  with  mourning  ruffles  all 
wet  with  tears,  drooped  her  head,  and  looked  now  and 
then  at  the  coffin.  Her  face  expressed  childish  terror. 
Katenka  stood  near  her  mother  and,  in  spite  of  her  drawn 
face,  was  as  rosy  as  usual.  Volodya's  open  nature  was 
also  open  in  its  grief ;  he  either  stood  lost  in  thought,  his 
immovable  look  directed  to  some  object,  or  his  mouth  sud- 
denly began  to  twitch,  and  he  hurriedly  made  the  signs  of 
the  cross  and  bowed.  All  the  outsiders  who  attended  the 
funeral  were  unbearable  to  me.  The  consohng  words 
which  they  spoke  to  father  —  that  she  would  be  better 
there,  that  she  was  not  for  this  world  —  provoked  a 
certain  anger  in  me. 


GRIEF  125 

What  right  did  they  have  to  speak  of  and  weep  for 
her  ?  Some  of  them,  speaking  of  us,  called  us  orphans. 
As  if  we  did  not  know  ourselves  that  children  who  had 
no  mother  were  called  by  that  name !  They  seemed  to 
take  delight  in  being  the  first  to  name  us  so,  just  as  people 
are  in  a  hurry  to  call  a  Dewly  married  girl  Madame. 

In  the  farther  corner  of  the  parlour,  almost  hidden 
behind  the  open  door  of  the  buffet,  knelt  the  bent,  gray- 
haired  old  woman.  Folding  her  hands  and  raising  them 
to  heaven,  she  did  not  weep,  but  prayed.  Her  soul  went 
out  to  God,  and  she  asked  Him  to  unite  her  with  the 
mistress  whom  she  had  loved  more  than  any  one  in 
the  world,  and  she  was  firmly  convinced  that  this  would 
soon  happen. 

"  Here  is  one  who  has  loved  her  sincerely  ! "  thought  I, 
and  I  was  ashamed  of  myself. 

The  mass  was  over ;  the  face  of  the  deceased  one  was 
uncovered,  and  all  persons  present,  except  us,  went  up  to 
the  coffin,  one  after  another,  and  made  their  obeisance. 

One  of  the  last  to  walk  up  to  take  leave  of  mother  was 
a  peasant  woman,  with  a  pretty  five-year-old  girl  in  her 
arms,  whom,  God  knows  why,  she  had  brought  with  her. 
Just  then  I  accidentally  dropped  my  wet  handkerchief, 
and  I  was  on  the  point  of  lifting  it  up.  The  moment  I 
bent  down,  I  was  struck  by  a  terrible,  penetrating  cry, 
which  was  filled  with  such  terror  that  if  I  were  to  live  a 
hundred  years  I  shall  not  forget  it,  and  whenever  I  think 
of  it,  a  cold  chill  passes  over  my  body.  I  raised  my  head  : 
on  a  tabouret,  near  the  coffin,  stood  the  same  peasant 
woman,  with  difficulty  restraining  the  girl  in  her  arms, 
who  fought  with  her  little  hands,  and,  throwing  back  her 
terrified  face  and  fixing  her  bulging  eyes  upon  the  coun- 
tenance of  the  dead  woman,  shrieked  in  a  terrible,  preter- 
natural voice.  I  cried  out  in  a  voice  which,  I  think,  was 
even  more  terrible  than  the  one  that  had  struck  me,  and 
ran  out  of  the  room. 


126  CHILDHOOD 

Only  then  I  understood  what  the  strong  and  heavy 
odour  came  from,  which  filled  the  room,  mingling  with 
the  odour  of  incense  ;  and  the  thought  that  the  face  which 
only  a  few  days  before  was  beaming  with  beauty  and 
gentleness,  the  face  of  her  I  loved  more  than  anything  else 
in  the  world,  could  evoke  terror,  for  the  first  time,  it 
seemed,  opened  the  bitter  truth  to  me,  and  filled  my  soul 
with  despair. 


XXVIIl. 

THE    LA.ST    SAD    MEMORIES 

Mamma  was  no  more,  but  our  life  ran  in  the  usual 
routine ;  we  went  to  bed  and  rose  at  the  same  hours,  and 
in  the  same  rooms.  Morning  and  evening,  tea,  dinner, 
supper,  —  everything  was  at  the  customary  hours.  The 
tables  and  chairs  stood  in  the  same  places.  Nothing  in 
the  house  nor  in  our  manner  of  life  had  changed,  —  only 
she  was  no  more  — 

It  seemed  to  me  that  after  such  a  misfortune  everything 
ought  to  change.  Our  usual  manner  of  life  appeared  to 
me  as  an  insult  to  her  memory,  and  too  vividly  reminded 
me  of  her  absence. 

On  the  day  before  the  funeral,  after  dinner,  I  was 
sleepy,  and  I  went  to  the  room  of  Natalya  Savishna, 
intending  to  lie  down  on  her  soft  feather  bed,  under  her 
warm  quilt.  When  I  entered,  Natalya  Savishna  was 
lying  on  her  bed,  and  no  doubt  was  sleeping.  When  she 
heard  the  sound  of  my  footsteps,  she  raised  herself,  threw 
back  the  woollen  kerchief  with  which  her  head  was  cov- 
ered to  protect  it  against  flies,  and,  fixing  her  cap,  seated 
herself  on  the  edge  of  her  bed. 

As  it  used  to  happen  frequently  that  after  dinner  I 
came  to  rest  in  her  room,  she  guessed  the  cause  of  my 
coming,  and  said  to  me,  rising  from  her  bed  : 

"  You  have  come  to  rest  yourself,  my  little  dove  ?  Lie 
down ! " 

127 


128  CHILDHOOD 

"  Don't  say  that,  Natalya  Savishna ! "  I  said,  holding 
her  back  by  her  hand.  "  I  did  not  come  for  that  —  I  just 
came  so  —  and  you  are  tired :  you  had  better  lie  down 
yourself." 

"  No,  my  dear  one,  I  have  slept  enough,"  she  said  to  me 
(I  knew  she  had  not  slept  for  three  days).  "  And  this  is 
no  time  for  sleepiug,"  she  added,  with  a  deep  sigh. 

I  wanted  to  have  a  talk  with  Natalya  Savishna  about 
our  misfortune.  I  knew  her  loyalty  and  love,  and  so  it 
would  have  been  a  consolation  for  me  to  weep  with  her. 

"  Natalya  Savishna,"  I  said,  after  a  moment's  silence, 
and  seating  myself  on  the  bed,  "  did  you  expect  this  ? " 

The  old  woman  looked  at  me  in  perplexity  and  with 
curiosity,  as  if  she  did  not  quite  understand  why  I  asked 
her  that. 

"  Who  could  have  expected  this  ? "  I  repeated. 

"  Oh,  my  dear  one,"  she  said,  casting  a  look  of  the  ten- 
derest  compassion  upon  me,  "  I  not  only  did  not  expect  it, 
but  I  can't  even  think  of  it.  It  has  long  been  time  for 
me,  an  old  woman,  to  put  my  old  bones  to  rest ;  for  see 
what  I  have  lived  to  go  through :  I  have  buried  the  old 
master,  your  grandfather,  —  may  his  memory  be  eternal,  — 
Prince  Nikolay  Mikhaylovich,  two  brothers,  sister  An- 
uushka,  and  they  were  all  younger  than  I,  my  dear  one, 
and  now  I  have  to  outlive  her,  no  doubt  for  my  sins.  His 
holy  will  be  done !  He  has  taken  her  because  she  was 
worthy,  and  He  needs  good  people  even  there." 

This  simple  thought  gave  me  consolation,  and  I  moved 
up  to  Natalya  Savishna.  She  crossed  her  arms  over  her 
breast,  and  looked  up  to  the  ceihng ;  her  moist,  sunken 
eyes  expressed  a  great,  but  calm,  sorrow.  She  was  firmly 
convinced  that  God  would  not  separate  her  long  from  her 
upon  whom  all  the  power  of  her  love  had  been  centred 
for  so  many  years. 

"  Yes,  my  dear  one,  it  does  not  seem  long  since  I  was 
swathing  and  watching  her,  and  she  called   me  Nasha. 


THE    LAST    SAD    MEMORIES  129 

She  used  to  run  up  to  me,  and  embrace  me  with  her  tiny 
arms,  and  kiss  me,  and  say : 

"'Nashik  mine,  beauty  mine,  darling  mine.'  And  I, 
joking  her,  would  say  : 

"  '  It  is  not  so,  motherkin,  you  do  not  love  me  !  Just  let 
you  grow  up,  and  you  will  marry,  and  will  forget  your 
Nasha.'  And  she  would  fall  to  musing :  '  No,'  she'd  say, 
'  I  had  better  not  marry,  if  I  can't  take  Nasha  with  me. 
I  will  never  abandon  Nasha.'  And  there !  she  has  aban- 
doned me,  she  did  not  wait  my  time.  And  she  did  love 
me ;  but,  to  tell  the  truth,  whom  did  she  not  love  ?  Yes, 
my  dear  one,  you  must  not  forget  your  mother ;  she  was 
not  human,  but  an  angel  of  heaven.  When  her  soul  will 
be  in  the  heavenly  kingdom,  she  will  love  you  there,  too, 
and  she  will  rejoice  in  you  there." 

"  Why  do  you  say,  Natalya  Savishna,  when  she  will  be 
in  the  heavenly  kingdom  ?  "  asked  I.  "  I  think  she  must 
be  there  now." 

"  No,  my  dear  one,"  said  Natalya  Savishna,  dropping 
her  head,  and  seating  herself  nearer  to  me  on  the  bed, 
"now  her  soul  is  here." 

And  she  pointed  upwards.  She  spoke  almost  in  a 
whisper,  and  with  such  feeling  and  conviction  that  I 
involuntarily  raised  my  eyes,  and,  looking  at  the  mould- 
ing, tried  to  find  something  there. 

"  Before  the  soul  of  a  righteous  person  goes  to  heaven, 
it  has  to  pass  through  forty  ordeals,  my  dear  one,  for  forty 
days,  and  may  still  be  in  her  house  —  " 

She  long  spoke  in  the  same  strain,  and  she  spoke  with 
simphcity  and  conviction,  as  if  she  were  telling  the  com- 
monest things  which  she  had  seen  herself,  and  in  regard 
to  which  no  one  could  have  the  slightest  doubts.  I  lis- 
tened to  her,  with  bated  breath,  an'd  though  I  did  not 
understand  well  what  she  was  telling  me,  I  believed  her 
fully. 

"  Yes,  my  dear  one,  now  she  is  here,  is  looking  at  you, 


130  CHILDHOOD 

and,    maybe,    hearing    what    we    are    saying,"  concluded 
Natalya  Savishna. 

And,  lowering  her  head,  she  grew  silent.  She  needed 
a  handkerchief  to  wipe  off  her  falling  tears.  She  rose, 
looked  straight  into  my  face,  and  said  in  a  voice  quiver- 
ing with  emotion : 

"  The  Lord  has  moved  me  up  several  steps  by  this 
experience.  What  is  left  for  me  here  ?  For  whom  am 
I  to  hve,  whom  am  I  to  love  ? " 

"  Do  you  not  love  us  ? "  I  said,  with  reproach,  and  with 
difficulty  restraining  my  tears. 

"  God  knows  how  I  love  you,  ray  little  doves,  but  I 
have  never  loved,  nor  can  love,  any  one  as  I  have  loved 
her." 

She  could  not  speak  any  longer,  turned  away  from  me, 
and  sobbed  out  loud. 

I  did  not  think  of  sleeping  after  that.  We  sat  silent, 
facing  each  other,  and  wept. 

F(5ka  entered  the  room.  Noticing  our  condition,  and 
evidently  not  wishing  to  disturb  us,  he  looked  about 
silently  and  timidly,  and  stopped  at  the  door. 

"  What  is  it,  Fokasha  ? "  asked  Natalya  Savishna, 
wiping  her  tears  with  her  handkerchief. 

"  A  pound  and  a  half  of  raisins,  four  pounds  of  sugar, 
and  three  pounds  of  rice  for  the  kutya."  ^ 

"Right  away,  right  away,  my  friend,"  said  Natalya 
Savishna.  She  hurriedly  took  a  pinch  of  snuff,  and  with 
rapid  steps  went  to  one  of  the  coffers.  The  last  traces  of 
the  sorrow  which  had  been  produced  by  our  conversation 
disappeared  the  moment  she  had  a  duty  to  perform  which 
she  regarded  as  very  important. 

"  Why  four  pounds  ?"  she  grumbled,  as  she  fetched  the 
sugar  and  weighed '  it  out  on  the  steelyard.  "  Three 
pounds  and  a  half  will  be  enough." 

1  Rice-cake  used  in  the  cliurch  during  tiie  reading  of  the  mass  for 
the  dead. 


THE    LAST    SAD    MEMORIES  131 

And  she  took  a  few  pieces  off  the  scale. 

"  And  what  kind  of  a  business  is  this  ?  Yesterday  I 
let  you  have  eight  pounds  of  rice,  and  now  you  are  ask- 
ing again  for  some.  You  may  do  as  you  please,  Foka,  but 
I  will  not  give  you  any  rice.  That  Vanka  is  glad  there 
is  a  disturbance  in  the  house,  and  so  he  thinks  that, 
perhaps,  I  shall  not  notice  it.  No,  I  will  not  be  indul- 
gent when  it  comes  to  the  master's  property.  Who  has 
ever  heard  such  a  thing  ?     Eight  pounds  ! " 

"  What  is  to  be  done  ?  He  says  it  has  all  been  used 
up." 

"  Well,  here  it  is,  take  it !     Let  him  have  it ! " 

I  was  struck  by  that  transition  from  the  touching 
emotion  with  which  she  had  been  speaking  to  me,  to 
grumbling  and  petty  considerations.  When  I  reflected 
over  it  at  a  later  time,  I  understood  that,  in  spite  of 
what  was  going  on  in  her  soul,  she  had  sufficient  presence 
of  mind  to  do  her  work,  and  the  power  of  habit  drew  her 
to  her  ordinary  occupations.  The  sorrow  had  affected 
her  so  powerfully,  that  she  did  not  find  it  necessary  to 
conceal  the  fact  that  she  was  able  to  attend  to  other 
matters ;  she  would  have  found  it  difficult  to  understand 
how  such  a  thought  could  come  to  one. 

Vanity  is  a  sentiment  that  is  incompatible  with  true 
sorrow,  and  yet  that  sentiment  is  so  firmly  inoculated  in 
the  nature  of  man  that  the  deepest  sorrow  rarely  expels 
it.  Vanity  in  sorrow  is  expressed  by  the  desire  to  appear 
bereaved,  or  unhappy,  or  firm.  And  these  low  desires,  to 
which  we  do  not  own  up,  but  which  do  not  abandon  us, 
not  even  in  the  deepest  grief,  deprive  it  of  power,  dignity,' 
and  sincerity.  But  Natalya  Savishna  was  so  deeply 
struck  by  her  misfortune  that  in  her  soul  not  a  wish 
was  left,  and  she  lived  only  from  habit. 

After  having  supplied  Foka  with  the  desired  provi- 
sions, and  reminded  him  of  the  cake  which  was  to  be 
made  for  the  entertainment  of  the  clergy,  she  dismissed 


132  CHILDHOOD 

him,  took  up  a  stocking,  and  again  sat  down  by  my 
side. 

Our  conversation  reverted  to  the  same  subject,  and  we 
once  more  began  to  weep,  and  to  wipe  off  our  tears. 

The  conversations  with  Natalya  Savishna  were  repeated 
every  day.  Her  quiet  tears  and  gentle,  pious  speeches 
afforded  me  consolation  and  relief. 

But  soon  we  were  separated ;  three  days  after  the 
funeral  we  moved  with  our  whole  household  to  Moscow, 
and  it  was  my  fate  never  to  see  her  again. 

Grandmother  received  the  terrible  news  only  upon  our 
arrival,  and  her  grief  was  very  great.  We  were  not 
admitted  to  her,  because  she  was  unconscious  for  a  whole 
week ;  the  doctors  were  afraid  for  her  life,  the  more  so 
since  she  not  only  would  not  take  any  medicine,  but  did 
not  even  speak  to  any  one,  nor  sleep,  nor  take  any  food. 
At  times,  while  she  was  sitting  all  alone  in  her  room, 
she  suddenly  burst  out  laughing,  then  sobbed  without 
tears,  went  into  convulsions,  and  shouted  meaningless 
and  terrible  words  in  a  preternatural  voice.  This  was 
the  first  great  sorrow  which  had  struck  her  down,  and  it 
brought  her  to  despair.  She  felt  she  must  accuse  some- 
body of  her  misfortune,  and  she  uttered  fearful  threats, 
exhibiting  meanwhile  unusual  bodily  strength,  jumped  up 
from  her  chair,  walked  across  the  room  with  long,  rapid 
steps,  and  then  fell  down  unconscious. 

I  once  walked  into  her  room :  she  sat,  as  usual,  in  her 
chair,  and  was,  apparently,  calm  ;  but  her  glance  appalled 
me.  Her  eyes  were  wdde  open,  but  her  vision  was  indefi- 
nite and  dull :  she  looked  straight  at  me,  and  in  all  prob- 
ability did  not  see  me.  Her  lips  slowly  began  to  smile, 
and  she  spoke  in  a  touching  and  tender  voice :  "  Come  to 
me,  my  dear,  come  to  me,  my  angel ! "  I  thought  she 
was  speaking  to  me,  so  I  walked  up  to  her,  but  she  was 
not  looking  at  me.  "  Ah,  if  you  knew,  my  treasure, 
how  I  have  suffered,  and  how  happy  I  am  now  that  you 


II 


THE    LAST    SAD    MEMORIES  133 

have  arrived."  I  understood  that  she  imagined  she  saw 
mamma,  and  I  stopped.  "  And  they  told  me  that  you 
were  no  more,"  she  continued,  frowning.  "  What  nonsense  ! 
You  can't  die  before  me ! "  and  she  laughed  out  with  a 
terrible,  hysterical  laughter. 

Only  people  who  are  capable  of  strong  affection  can 
experience  deep  sorrow ;  but  this  very  necessity  of  loving 
serves  for  them  as  a  counteraction  of  their  sorrow,  and 
cures  it.  For  this  reason  the  moral  nature  of  man  is  even 
more  tenacious  than  his  physical  nature.  Sorrow  never 
kiUs. 

A  week  later  grandmother  was  able  to  weep,  and  she 
grew  better.  Her  first  thought,  after  she  regained  con- 
sciousness, was  of  us,  and  her  love  for  us  was  increased. 
We  did  not  leave  her  chair;  she  wept  softly,  spoke  of 
mamLma,  and  tenderly  petted  us. 

It  would  never  have  occurred  to  a  person  who  saw 
grandmother's  bereavement,  that  she  exaggerated  it, 
though  the  expression  of  that  sorrow  was  vehem  nt 
and  touching;  but  somehow  I  sympathized  more  with 
Natalya  Savishna,  and  I  am  convinced,  even  now,  that 
nobody  loved  mamma  so  sincerely  and  purely,  or  grieved 
for  her  so  much  as  did  that  simple-hearted  and  loving 
creature. 

With  my  mother's  death  the  happy  period  of  ray  life 
was  over,  and  a  new  epoch,  that  of  my  boyhood,  began ; 
but  since  the  memories  of  Natalya  Savishna,  whom  I 
never  saw  again,  and  who  had  had  such  a  strong  and 
helpful  influence  upon  the  direction  and  development  of 
my  sentiments,  belong  to  the  first  epoch,  I  shall  say 
a  few  words  about  her  and  her  death. 

After  our  departure,  as  our  people  who  remained  in  the 
village  later  told  me,  she  felt  very  lonely  for  want  of 
work.  Although  all  the  coffers  were  still  in  her  keep- 
ing, and  she  did  not  cease  rummaging  through  them, 
transposing,  hanging  things  up,  and  spreading  them  out. 


134  CHILDHOOD 

she  missed  the  noise  and  bustle  of  the  country  residence 
when  it  is  inhabited  by  its  masters,  to  which  she  had 
been  accustomed  from  her  childhood.  The  bereavement, 
the  changed  manner  of  life,  and  the  absence  of  petty 
cares  soon  developed  in  her  an  ailment  of  old  age  for 
which  she  had  a  natural  predisposition.  Precisely  a  year 
after  mother's  death,  she  developed  dropsy,  and  took  to 
her  bed. 

I  think  it  was  hard  for  Natalya  Savishna  to  live  alone, 
and  harder  still  to  die  alone,  in  the  large  Petrovskoe 
house,  without  relatives,  without  friends.  Everybody  in 
the  house  loved  and  respected  her,  but  she  had  no  friend- 
ship for  anybody,  and  she  prided  herself  on  the  fact.  She 
surmised  that  in  her  capacity  of  stewardess,  where  she 
enjoyed  the  confidence  of  her  masters  and  had  so  many 
coffers  with  all  kinds  of  property  in  her  charge,  her 
friendship  for  anybody  would  necessarily  lead  to  hypoc- 
risy and  criminal  condescension.  Eor  this  reason,  or, 
perhaps,  because  she  had  nothing  in  common  with  the 
other  servants,  she  kept  aloof  from  all  and  maintained 
that  in  the  house  she  had  no  kith  nor  kin,  and  that  she 
would  show  no  indulgence  in  matters  pertaining  to  her 
master's  property. 

She  sought  and  found  consolation  in  confiding  her  feel- 
ings to  God  in  fervent  prayers ;  but  at  times,  during 
moments  of  weakness,  to  which  we  all  are  subject,  when 
the  best  consolation  is  afforded  man  by  the  tears  and 
sympathies  of  living  beings,  she  lifted  upon  her  bed 
her  lapdog,  who,  fixing  her  yellow  eyes  upon  her,  licked 
her  hands  ;  Natalya  Savishna  spoke  to  her  and,  weeping 
softly,  stroked  her.  When  her  lapdog  began  pitifully  to 
whimper,  she  tried  to  quiet  her,  and  said :  "  Now  stop,  I 
know  without  you  that  I  shall  die  soon." 

A  month  before  her  death  she  took  some  white  calico, 
white  muslin,  and  rose-coloured  ribbons  out  of  her  coffer : 
with  the  aid  of  her  servant-girl  she  sewed  a  white  dress 


THE    LAST    SAD    MEMOKIES  135 

and  a  cap  for  herself,  and  made  the  minutest  arrange- 
ments for  everything  that  would  be  needed  for  her  fu- 
neral. She  also  went  through  the  coffers  of  her  master, 
and  transferred  everything,  with  the  greatest  precision, 
according  to  an  invoice,  to  the  wife  of  the  business  stew- 
ard ;  then  she  took  out  two  silk  dresses  and  an  ancient 
shawl,  which  had  been  given  her  at  one  time  by  grand- 
mother, and  grandfather's  mihtary  uniform,  with  golden 
trappings,  which  had  also  been  given  into  her  full  pos- 
session. Thanks  to  her  care,  the  seams  and  the  lace  of 
the  uniform  were  still  fresh,  and  the  cloth  had  not  been 
touched  by  moths.  Before  her  death  she  expressed  her 
wish  that  one  of  the  dresses  —  the  rose-coloured  one  — 
should  be  given  to  Volodya  for  a  dressing-gown  or  smok- 
ing-jacket,  the  other,  —  puce  in  checks,  —  to  me,  for 
similar  use,  and  the  shawl  to  Lyiibochka.  The  uniform 
she  bequeathed  to  whichever  of  us  became  an  officer  first. 
The  rest  of  her  property  and  money,  except  forty  roubles 
which  she  laid  aside  for  her  burial  and  mass,  she  left  to 
her  brother.  Her  brother,  who  had  long  ago  been  eman- 
cipated, was  living  in  some  distant  CJovernment,  and  lead- 
ing a  most  riotous  life,  so  she  had  no  relations  with  him 
during  her  lifetime. 

When  Natalya  Savishna's  brother  appeared  to  get  his 
inheritance,  and  the  whole  property  of  the  deceased 
woman  amounted  only  to  twenty-five  roubles,  he  was 
unwilling  to  believe  it,  and  declared  it  was  impossible 
that  an  old  woman,  who  had  lived  for  sixty  years  in 
a  rich  house,  who  had  had  everything  in  her  hands, 
and  all  her  life  lived  parsimoniously  and  quarrelled 
about  every  rag,  should  have  left  nothing.  But  it  was 
really  so. 

Natalya  Savishna  suffered  two  months  from  her 
disease,  and  bore  her  sufferings  with  truly  Christian 
patience ;  she  did  not  gruml:)le,  did  not  complain,  but 
only,  as  was  her  custom,  continually  invoked  God.     An 


136  CHILDHOOD 

hour  before  death,  she  confessed  with  quiet  joy,  and 
received  the  holy  sacrameut  and  extreme  unction. 

She  begged  forgiveness  of  the  inmates  of  the  house  for 
offences  which  she  might  have  caused  them,  and  asked 
her  confessor,  Father  Vasili,  to  transmit  to  us  that  she 
did  not  know  how  to  thank  us  for  our  kindnesses,  and 
that  she  asked  us  to  forgive  her,  if  through  her  stupidity 
she  had  offended  any  one,  but  that  "  I  have  never  been  a 
thief,  and  have  never  so  much  as  filched  a  thread  from 
my  masters."  Tins  was  the  one  quality  for  which  she 
valued  herself. 

Having  donned  the  gown  which  she  had  prepared,  and 
a  cap,  and  resting  on  her  pillows,  she  continued  talking  to 
the  priest  to  the  very  last.  She  happened  to  think  that 
she  had  left  nothing  for  the  poor,  so  she  took  out  ten 
roubles,  and  asked  him  to  distribute  them  among  the  poor 
of  his  parish ;  then  she  made  the  sign  of  the  cross, 
lay  down,  and  drew  her  last  sigh,  pronouncing  the  name 
of  God  with  a  joyful  smile. 

She  left  life  without  regret,  was  not  afraid  of  death, 
and  accepted  it  as  a  boon.  This  is  often  said,  but  how 
rarely  does  it  happen  in  reality  !  Natalya  Savishna 
could  well  afford  to  be  without  fear  of  death,  for  she  died 
with  her  faith  unshaken,  and  fulfilling  the  law  of  the 
gospel.  All  her  life  was  a  pure,  unselfish  love  and  self- 
sacrifice. 

What  if  her  behef  might  have  been  more  elevated, 
and  her  life  directed  to  higher  purposes,  —  was  her 
pure  soul  on  that  account  less  worthy  of  love  and 
admiration  ? 

She  executed  the  best  and  highest  act  of  this  life, — 
she  died  without  regi'ets  or  fear. 

She  was  buried,  according  to  her  own  wish,  not  far 
from  the  chapel  which  was  built  over  mother's  grave. 
The  mound  under  which  she  lies,  and  which  is  overgrown 
with    nettles  and   agrimony,   is   surrounded   by   a  black 


THE    LAST    SAD    MEMORIES  137 

picket-fence,  and  I    never   fail    to    go   from    the   chapel 
to  this  fence  and  to  make  a  low  obeisance. 

At  times  I  stop  in  silence  between  the  chapel  and  the 
black  fence.  In  my  soul  again  arise  gloomy  recollections, 
and  I  think  :  Has  Providence  connected  me  with  these 
two  beings  only  that  I  may  eternally  regret  them  ? 


BOYHOOD 

A  Novel 
1854 


BOYHOOD 


I. 

AT   EASY   STAGES 

Again  two  carriages  drove  up  to  the  veranda  of  the 
Petrovskoe  house :  one,  a  coach,  in  which  seated  them- 
selves Mimi,  Katenka,  Lyubochka  and  a  chambermaid, 
and  steward  Yakov  himself,  on  the  box ;  another,  a  calash, 
in  which  Volodya  and  I,  and  lackey  Vasili,  who  had  but 
lately  been  taken  from  field  labour,  were  to  travel. 

Papa,  who  was  to  follow  us  to  Moscow  a  few  days 
later,  stood  on  the  veranda  without  his  cap,  and  made 
the  sign  of  the  cross  against  the  window  of  the  coach,  and 
at  the  calash. 

"  Well,  Christ  be  with  you  !  Move  on  !  "  Yakov  and 
the  coachmen  (we  were  travelling  in  our  own  carriages) 
doffed  their  caps  and  made  the  sign  of  the  cross.  "  Move 
on  !     Godspeed  !  " 

The  bodies  of  the  carriages  began  to  leap  up  and  down 
on  the  uneven  road,  and  the  birches  of  the  highway  flew 
by  us,  one  after  another.  I  did  not  feel  sad  in  the  least : 
my  mental  vision  was  turned  not  to  what  I  left  behind 
me,  but  to  what  was  ahead  of  me.  The  farther  I  de- 
parted from  the  objects  that  were  connected  witli  sad 
memories,  which  until  then  had  filled  my  imagination, 

141 


142  BOYHOOD 

the  more  these  memories  faded,  and  were  soon  exchanged 
for  the  joyous  consciousness  of  a  life  full  of  strength, 
freshness,  and  hope. 

I  have  rarely  passed  a  few  days,  I  shall  not  say  as 
merrily,  for  I  felt  as  yet  ashamed  to  abandon  myself  to 
merriment,  —  but  as  agreeably,  as  well,  as  the  four  days 
of  our  journey.  Before  my  eyes  was  neither  the  locked 
door  of  mother's  chamber,  by  which  I  could  not  pass 
without  a  shudder,  nor  the  closed  piano,  which  not  only 
was  not  opened,  but  was  looked  upon  with  a  certain  ter- 
ror, nor  the  mourning  garments  (we  were  all  dressed  in 
simple  travelling  costumes),  nor  any  other  of  the  many 
things  which  reminded  me  of  my  irretrievable  loss  and 
caused  me  to  beware  of  every  manifestation  of  life  that 
in  any  maimer  could  offend  her  memory.  Here,  on  the 
contrary,  the  ever  new,  picturesque  places  and  objects 
arrested  and  diverted  my  attention,  and  vernal  natitre 
peopled  my  soul  with  balmy  feelings  of  satisfaction  with 
the  present,  and  with  bright  hope  for  the  future. 

Early,  very  early  in  the  morning,  heartless  and,  as  is 
always  the  case  with  men  in  their  new  duties,  overzeal- 
ous,  Vasili  pulled  off  my  coverlet  and  assured  me  that  it 
was  time  to  travel,  and  .that  everything  was  ready.  How- 
ever much  I  squirmed,  and  pretended,  and  growled,  to 
get  at  least  another  quarter  of  an  hour  for  my  sweet 
morning  sleep,  I  could  see  by  A^asili's  firm  face  that  he 
was  inexorable,  and  would  pull  off  my  coverlet  another 
twenty  times  ;  so  I  jumped  up  and  ran  into  the  court- 
yard to  get  wasbed. 

In  the  hall  was  already  boiling  the  samovar,  which  out- 
rider Mitka,  turning  red  like  a  lobster,  was  fanning  with 
his  breath.  The  air  was  damp  and  misty,  just  as  when 
steam  rises  from  a  strong-smelling  dunghill.  The  sun 
with  its  bright,  merry  light  illuminated  the  eastern  part  of 
the  heavens  and  the  straw  thatches  of  the  spacious  sheds 
around  the  courtyard,  the  straw  gleaming  from  the  dew 


AT    EASY    STAGES  143 

that  covered  it.  Beneath  the  sheds  could  be  seen  our 
liorses,  tied  to  the  manger,  and  could  be  heard  their 
measured  chewing.  A  shaggy  black  dog,  who  had  cud- 
dled up  before  dawn  on  a  dry  head  of  manure,  lazily 
stretched  himself  and,  wagging  his  tail,  betook  himself  at  a 
jogging  pace  to  the  other  side  of  the  yard.  The  industrious 
housewife  opened  the  creaking  gates,  and  drove  the  pen- 
sive cows  into  the  street,  where  were  already  heard  the 
tramp  and  lowing  and  bleating  of  the  cattle,  and  exchanged 
a  word  or  two  with  her  sleepy  neighbour.  Filipp,  with  his 
shirt-sleeves  rolled  up,  drew  the  bucket  from  the  deep 
well  by  turning  the  wheel,  and,  splashing  the  clear  water, 
poured  it  into  the  oaken  trough,  near  which  the  wakeful 
ducks  were  plashing  in  a  puddle ;  and  I  looked  with 
pleasure  at  Filipp's  large  face  with  its  expansive  beard, 
and  at  his  swollen  veins  and  muscles,  which  were  sharply 
defined  on  his  powerful  bare  arm.s,  whenever  he  exerted 
himself  at  work. 

They  were  stirring  behind  the  partition,  where  Mimi 
slept  with  the  girls,  and  througli  which  we  had  carried  on 
a  conversation  in  the  evening ;  Masha  ran  by  us  ever  more 
frequently,  carrying  various  objects  which  she  tried  to 
conceal  with  a  cloth  from  our  curiosity.  Finally  the 
door  was  opened,  and  we  were  called  to  drink  tea. 

Vasili  kept  on  running  into  the  room,  in  a  fit  of  super- 
fluous zeal,  carried  away,  now  one  thing,  now  another, 
beckoned  to  us,  and  persistently  implored  Mar3a  Ivan- 
ovna  to  make  an  early  start.  The  horses  were  hitched 
up,  and. expressed  their  impatience  by  tinkling  their  bells 
from  time  to  time.  The  portmanteaus,  coffers,  cases,  and 
boxes  were  again  put  in  their  places,  and  we  took  our 
seats.  But  every  time  we  seated  ourselves  in  the  calash, 
we  found  a  mountain  instead  of  a  seat,  so  that  we  never 
could  understand  how  it  had  all  been  properly  packed 
away  the  day  before,  and  how  we  were  going  to  sit  down. 
In  particular  a  walnut  tea-box  with  a  three-cornered  lid, 


144  BOYHOOD 

which  they  had  placed  in  our  calash,  provoked  my  great- 
est anger.  But  Vasili  said  that  it  would  all  settle  after 
awhile,  and  I  was  compelled  to  believe  him. 

The  sun  had  just  risen  from  under  a  dense  white  cloud 
which  had  covered  the  east,  and  the  whole  surrounding 
country  was  merged  in  a  soft,  soothing  light.  Every- 
thing around  me  was  beautiful,  and  my  soul  felt  light 
and  calm.  The  road  wound  in  front  of  us  like  a  broad 
ribbon,  among  fields  of  dried-up  stubble  and  verdure 
agleam  with  dew.  Here  and  there  along  the  road  we 
came  across  a  gloomy  willow  or  a  young  birch-tree  with 
small,  viscous  leaves,  which  threw  its  long,  immovable 
shadow  across  the  dry,  clayey  ruts  and  the  small,  green 
grass  of  the  road.  The  monotonous  rumble  of  the  wheels 
and  tinkhng  of  the  bells  did  not  drown  the  song  of  the 
skylarks  which  circled  near  the  very  road.  The  odour 
of  moth-eaten  cloth,  of  the  dust,  or  of  some  acid,  which 
characterized  our  calash,  was  overcome  by  the  fragrance 
of  morning,  and  I  felt  in  my  soul  a  pleasurable  unrest,  a 
desire  to  do  something,  —  which  is  a  sign  of  genuine 
enjoyment. 

I  had  not  had  any  time  to  say  my  prayers  at  the  tav- 
ern :  but  having  frequently  observed  that  some  misfor- 
tune always  befell  me  on  days  when  I,  for  some  reason 
or  other,  forgot  to  carry  out  this  ceremony,  I  tried  to 
correct  my  omission :  I  doffed  my  cap,  turned  to  one  side 
of  the  calash,  said  my  prayers,  and  made  the  signs  of  the 
cross  under  my  blouse,  so  that  no  one  should  see  them. 
But  a  thousand  different  objects  distracted  my  attention, 
and  I  absent-mindedly  repeated  several  times  in  succes- 
sion the  same  words  of  my  prayer. 

Some  figures  were  seen  to  move  on  the  foot-path  which 
wound  along  the  road :  those  were  women  making  their 
pilgrimage.  Their  heads  were  wrapped  in  soiled  kerchiefs  ; 
on  their  backs  they  carried  bast  knapsacks;  their  feet 
were   covered  with  dirty,  torn  rag  stockings  and  heavy 


AT    EASY   STAGES  145 

bast  sandals.  They  moved  onward  in  single  file,  with 
slow  and  heavy  steps,  moving  their  staffs  in  even  measure, 
and  barely  casting  a  glance  upon  us.  I  was  long  busy 
with  the  question,  whither  they  went,  and  wherefore, — 
whether  their  wandering  would  last  a  considerable  time 
and  how  soon  it  would  be  before  their  long  shadows, 
which  they  cast  upon  the  road,  would  merge  with  the 
shadow  of  the  willow,  which  they  had  to  pass. 

Then  a  four-horse  post-carriage  rapidly  bore  down  upon 
us.  Two  seconds  more,  and  the  faces,  which,  at  the 
distance  of  five  feet,  had  cast  a  glance  of  curiosity  and 
greeting  upon  us,  flashed  by  us,  and  it  seemed  strange  to 
me  that  these  faces  had  nothing  in  common  with  me,  and 
that  I  should,  probably,  never  see  them  again. 

Along  one  side  of  the  road  ran  two  sweating,  shaggy 
horses  with  their  collars  and  their  traces  tucked  under 
their  harness.  The  driver,  a  young  fellow,  with  his  lamb- 
skin cap  poised  on  one  ear,  hung  his  long  legs  in  large 
boots  astride  a  horse,  whose  yoke  rested  loosely  upon  its 
neck,  so  that  the  bell  tinkled  but  rarely  and  inaudiljly, 
and  he  sang  a  drawling  song.  His  countenance  and 
attitude  expressed  so  much  indolent,  careless  satisfaction, 
that  it  seemed  to  me  the  acme  of  happiness  to  be  a  driver, 
to  ride  on  return  horses,  and  sing  melancholy  songs. 

There,  far  beyond  the  ravine,  a  village  church  with  a 
green  roof  was  outlined  against  the  light-blue  sky  ;  there, 
appeared  the  village  itself,  the  red  roof  of  the  manor,  and 
a  green  garden.  Who  was  living  in  that  house  ?  Were 
there  any  children,  a  father,  a  mother,  a  teacher  in  it  ? 
Why  could  we  not  drive  up  to  the  house,  and  become 
acquainted  with  its  proprietors  ?  There,  was  a  long  cara- 
van of  immense  wagons,  each  of  which  was  drawn  by 
three  well-fed,  stout-legged  horses,  and  we  were  com- 
pelled to  drive  far  to  one  side,  to  get  beyond  them. 

"  What  are  you  hauling  ? "  asked  Vasili  of  the  first 
driver,  who,  dangling  his  huge  legs  over  the  foot-rest  and 


146  BOYHOOD 

waving  his  whip,  kept  on  staring  at  us  meaninglessly,  and 
gave  us  an  answer  only  when  it  was  not  possible  to  hear 
him. 

"  What  goods  are  these  ? "  VasiK  turned  to  another 
wagon,  in  the  fenced-off  front  part  of  which  the  driver 
lay  under  a  new  mat.  A  blond  head  with  a  red  face 
and  russet  beard  for  a  moment  stuck  out  from  the  mat, 
with  an  indifferent,  contemptuous  look  gazed  at  our 
calash,  and  again  hid  itself.  It  occurred  to  me  that  the 
drivers  could  not  make  out  who  we  were,  and  whither 
and  whence  we  were  travelling. 

For  an  hour  and  a  half  I  was  absorbed  in  various 
observations,  and  paid  no  attention  to  the  crooked  figures 
on  the  verst-posts.  But  now  the  sun  began  to  glow  more 
warmly  upon  my  head  and  back,  the  road  grew  more 
dusty,  the  three-cornered  lid  of  the  tea-box  annoyed  me 
more  and  more,  and  I  several  times  changed  my  position  : 
I  felt  warm,  uncomfortable,  and  tired.  All  my  attention 
was  turned  to  the  verst-posts  and  the  figures  upon  them. 
I  made  all  kinds  of  mathematical  calculations  in  regard 
to  the  time  when  we  should  arrive  at  the  station.  "  Twelve 
versts  are  one  third  of  thirty-six,  and  to  Liptsy  is  forty- 
one  versts,  consequently  we  have  travelled  one  third,  and 
how  much  ? "  and  so  forth. 

"  Vasili,"  said  I,  when  I  noticed  that  he  was  beginning 
to  nod  on  his  box,  "  let  me  sit  on  the  box,  my  dear ! " 

VasiH  consented.  We  exchanged  places:  he  immedi- 
ately started  to  snore,  and  so  spread  himself  in  the  calash 
that  no  place  was  left  for  anybody  else ;  while  from  the 
height  which  I  occupied,  a  very  pleasing  picture  was 
unravelled  before  me,  namely  our  four  horses,  Neruch- 
inskaya,  Sexton,  Left  Shaft,  and  Apothecary,  whose 
properties  I  had  studied  to  the  minutest  details  and 
shades. 

"  Why  is  Sexton  to-day  on  the  off  side,  and  not  on  the 
nigh  side,  Filipp  ?  "  I  asked  him  somewhat  timidly. 


AT   EASY    STAGES  147 

"  Sexton  ? " 

"  And  Nemchinskaya  is  not  pulling  at  all,"  said  I. 

"  Sexton  can't  be  put  on  the  nigh  side,"  said  Filipp, 
without  paying  any  attention  to  my  last  remark.  "  She 
is  not  the  kind  of  a  horse  to  be  put  on  the  nigh  side. 
On  the  nigh  side  you  need  a  horse  which,  in  short,  is  a 
horse,  and  not  this  kind  of  a  horse." 

Saying  this,  Filipp  bent  down  to  the  right,  and,  pulling 
the  reins  with  all  his  might,  began,  in  a  peculiar  upward 
manner,  to  strike  Sexton's  tail  and  legs;  and  though 
Sexton  was  doing  her  best  and  drawing  the  whole  calash, 
Filipp  did  not  put  a  stop  to  his  maureuvre  except  when 
he  felt  the  necessity  for  resting  and,  for  some  reason, 
pushing  his  cap  down  on  one  side,  though  it  was  firmly 
and  correctly  poised  upon  his  head. 

I  took  advantage  of  such  a  happy  moment,  and  asked 
Filipp  to  let  me  do  the  driving.  Filipp  gave  me  at  first 
one  line,  then  another ;  finally  all  six  lines  and  the  whip 
passed  into  my  hands,  and  I  was  completely  happy.  I 
tried  in  every  way  to  imitate  Filipp,  and  asked  him 
whether  I  was  doing  right,  but  it  generally  ended  by  his 
being  dissatisfied  with  me :  he  said  that  one  was  drawing 
too  much,  and  another  was  not  drawing  at  all,  and  finally 
he  stuck  his  elbow  in  front  of  me,  and  took  the  lines 
away. 

The  heat  was  increasing,  and  the  cirrus  clouds  swelled 
hke  soap-bubbles,  higher  and  higher,  and  came  together 
and  assumed  dark  gray  shades.  A  hand  with  a  bottle 
and  a  bundle  was  thrust  out  of  the  window  of  the  coach. 
Vasili,  with  remarkable  agility,  leaped  from  tlie  box, 
while  the  calash  was  in  motion,  and  brought  us  cheese- 
cakes and  kvas. 

When  we  reached  the  incline  of  a  steep  hill,  we  all 
alighted  from  our  carriages,  and  sometimes  we  ran  a  race 
down  to  the  bridge,  while  Vasili  and  Yakov  put  the  brakes 
to  the  wheels  and  from  both  sides  supported  the  coach 


148  BOYHOOD 

with  their  hands,  as  if  they  could  prevent  it  from  falhng. 
Then,  with  Mimi's  jjermission,  Volodya  or  I  took  a  seat  in 
the  coach,  and  Lyiibochka  or  Katenka  seated  themselves 
in  ^the  calash.  These  exchanges  gave  the  girls  great 
pleasure,  because  they  justly  discovered  that  it  was  much 
jollier  in  the  calash.  At  times,  when  we  crossed  a  grove 
during  the  heat,  we  fell  behind  the  coach,  gathered  green 
branches,  and  built  an  arbour  in  the  calash.  The  trans- 
portable arbour  caught  up  with  the  coach,  at  full  speed, 
while  Lyiibochka  screamed  at  the  top  of  her  voice,  which 
she  uever  failed  to  do  at  any  occasion  that  gave  her  much 
pleasure. 

At  last,  there  was  the  village  where  we  were  to  dine 
and  rest.  There  were  the  smells  of  the  village,  —  the 
smoke,  the  tar,  and  the  sheepskins,  and  we  heard  the 
sound  of  conversation,  the  tramp  of  steps,  and  the  rattle 
of  wheels.  The  carriage  bells  no  longer  sounded  as  in 
the  open  field,  and  on  both  sides  cabins  flew  by  with 
their  straw  thatches,  carved  frame  porches,  and  tiny 
windows,  with  red  and  green  shutters,  through  which 
here  and  there  stuck  out  the  head  of  a  curious  woman. 
Here  were  the  village  boys  and  girls  in  shirts  only :  open- 
ing wide  their  eyes,  and  extending  their  arms,  they  stood 
stock-still,  or,  tripping  witli  tlieir  bare  feet  in  the  dust, 
ran,  in  spite  of  the  threatening  motions  of  Filipp,  after  the 
carriages  and  endeavoured  to  chmb  on  the  portmanteaus 
which  were  tied  behind.  Now,  red-haired  tavern-keepers 
came  running  to  the  carriages  on  both  sides,  and  with 
enticing  words  and  gestures  vied  in  the  effort  to  attract 
tlie  travellers.  "  Whoa  !  "  the  gate  creaked,  the  catch  held 
it  in  place,  and  we  drove  into  the  courtyard.  Four 
hours  of  rest  and  freedom  ! 


n. 

THE    STORM 

The  sun  inclined  to  the  west,  and  with  its  hot  rays  xin- 
bearably  burnt  my  neck  and  cheeks.  It  was  impossible 
to  touch  the  heated  edges  of  the  calash.  Dense  dust  rose 
along  the  road  and  filled  the  air.  There  was  not  the  least 
breeze  to  carry  it  off.  In  front  of  us,  at  a  constant  dis- 
tance, shook  the  tall,  dusty  body  of  the  coach  with  its 
baggage,  and  beyond  it  now  and  then  could  be  discerned 
the  whip  which  the  coachman  waved,  and  his  hat  and 
Yakov's  cap.  I  did  not  know  what  to  do  with  myself ; 
neither  the  black,  dust-covered  face  of  Volodya,  who  was 
dozing  by  my  side,  nor  the  movements  of  Filipp's  back, 
nor  the  elongated  shadow  of  our  calash,  which  followed 
us  at  an  oblique  angle,  afforded  me  any  distraction.  All 
my  attention  was  directed  to  the  verst-posts,  which  I  no- 
ticed at  a  distance,  and  to  the  clouds,  which  before  were 
scattered  over  the  horizon  and  now  assumed  ominous, 
black  hues,  and  gathered  into  one  gloomy  storm-cloud. 
Now  and  then  rumbled  a  far-off  peal  of  thunder.  This 
latter  circumstance  more  than  anything  else  increased  my 
impatience  to  reach  a  tavern  at  the  earliest  possible  mo- 
ment. The  storm  induced  in  me  an  inexpressibly  heavy 
feeling  of  melancholy  and  terror. 

It  was  yet  ten  versts  to  the  nearest  village,  when  a 
dark,  lilac  cloud  arose,  God  knows  where,  without  the 
slightest  wind,  but  nevertheless  rapidly  moved  up  toward 
us.     The  sun,  not  yet  overcast,  brightly  illuminated  its 

143 


150  BOYHOOD 

sombre  form  and  the  gray  streaks  which  rau  down  from 
it  to  the  horizon.  At  times  lightning  flashed  in  the  dis- 
tance, and  I  heard  a  weak  din,  which  by  degrees  grew 
louder,  came  nearer,  and  passed  into  uninterrupted  peals 
that  resounded  through  the  whole  heavens.  Vasili  rose 
from  his  seat  and  raised  the  top  of  the  calash ;  the  coach- 
men put  on  their  sleeveless  coats,  and  at  every  thunder- 
clap doffed  their  caps,  and  made  the  sign  of  the  cross  ;  the 
horses  pricked  up  their  ears,  expanded  their  nostrils,  as  if 
to  sniff  the  fresh  air  which  was  borne  from  the  approach- 
ing storm-cloud,  and  the  calash  ran  faster  over  the  dusty 
road. 

I  was  ill  at  ease,  and  felt  my  blood  coursing  faster  in 
my  veins.  Now  the  foremost  clouds  began  to  shroud  the 
sun  ;  now  it  peeped  out  for  the  last  time,  lighted  up  the 
terribly  gloomy  side  of  the  horizon,  and  disappeared. 
The  whole  country  was  suddenly  changed  and  assumed  a 
sombre  aspect.  Here,  an  aspen  grove  began  to  quiver ; 
its  leaves  turned  turbidly  white,  brightly  outlined  against 
the  lilac  background  of  the  cloud,  and  they  rustled  and 
whirled  about.  The  tops  of  tall  birches  began  to  sway, 
and  tufts  of  dry  grass  flew  across  the  road.  Sand-martins 
and  white-breasted  swallows  flitted  all  about  tlie  calash, 
as  if  wishing  to  stop  it,  and  flew  by  the  very  breasts  of 
the  horses ;  jackdaws,  with  their  disarranged  wings,  flew 
somehow  sideways  along  the  wind.  The  corners  of  the 
leather  boot,  which  we  had  pinned  over  us,  commenced  to 
rise,  letting  in  streams  of  moist  wind,  and,  flapping,  struck 
the  body  of  the  calash.  Lightning  flashed,  in  the  very 
calash  it  seemed,  blinded  our  eyes,  and  for  an  instant 
lighted  up  the  gray  cloth,  the  tasselled  border,  and 
Volodya's  figure  crouching  in  a  corner.  At  the  same  mo- 
ment a  majestic  peal  was  heard  over  our  heads,  and  it 
rose  higher  and  liigher,  wider  and  wider,  on  an  immense 
spiral,  increased  in  strength,  and  passed  into  a  deafening 
roar,  which  made  me  tremble  against  my  will,  and  hold 


THE    STORM  151 

my  breath.  God's  anger !  How  much  poetry  there  is  in 
this  popular  conception  ! 

The  wheels  revolved  faster  and  faster ;  I  could  see  by 
the  backs  of  Vasili  and  Filipp,  who  impatiently  waved 
his  whip,  that  they,  too,  were  afraid.  The  calash  rapidly 
descended  a  hill,  and  rattled  over  a  board  bridge  ;  I  was 
afraid  to  move,  and  every  minute  expected  our  common 
destruction. 

"  Whoa ! "  the  trace-leather  was  torn,  and  we  were 
compelled  to  stop,  in  spite  of  the  uninterrupted,  deafening 
peals. 

Leaning  my  head  against  the  edge  of  the  calash,  I  fol- 
lowed, in  breathless  expectancy,  and  against  hope,  the 
movements  of  the  fat,  black  fingers  of  Filipp,  who  leisurely 
tied  a  knot  and  straightened  out  the  traces,  all  the  time 
striking  the  off  horse  with  the  palm  of  his  hand  and  with 
the  whip  handle. 

Agitated  feelings  of  melancholy  and  terror  grew  apace 
in  me  with  the  storm,  but  when  the  majestic  moment  of 
silence  came,  which  generally  preceded  the  burst  of  storm, 
these  feelings  were  so  intensified  that,  if  this  condition 
had  lasted  another  fifteen  minutes,  I  should  have  died  of 
excitement.  Just  then  there  issued  from  underneath  the 
bridge  a  human  being,  having  on  nothing  but  a  dirty, 
ragged  shirt,  with  a  swollen,  meaningless  countenance,  a 
shaking,  close-cropped  bare  head,  crooked,  fleshless  legs, 
and  a  shining,  red  stump  of  a  hand  which  he  thrust 
straight  into  the  calash. 

"  Good  people !  Give,  for  Christ's  sake,  to  the  poor 
man ! "  resounded  his  ailing  voice,  and  the  beggar  made 
the  sign  of  the  cross  with  each  word,  and  bowed  low  to 
the  ground. 

I  cannot  express  the  sensation  of  cold  terror  which  at 
that  moment  took  possession  of  my  soul.  A  chill  ran 
through  my  hair,  and  my  eyes  were  directed  to  the  beg- 
gar with  a  blank  stare  of  terror. 


152  BOYHOOD 

Vasili  handed  the  beggar  some  alms  and  instructed 
Filipp  in  regard  to  the  fastening  of  the  trace-leather,  and 
when  all  was  done,  Filipp  gathered  up  his  hues,  climbed 
on  his  box,  and  began  to  fetch  something  out  of  his  side 
pocket.  No  sooner  did  we  start,  than  a  blinding  flash  of 
Ughtning,  which  for  a  moment  filled  the  ravine  with  a 
sheet  of  fiery  light,  compelled  the  horses  to  stop ;  without 
the  shghtest  interval,  it  was  accompanied  by  such  a  deaf- 
ening crack  of  thunder  that  it  seemed  the  whole  vault  of 
heaven  would  cave  in  upon  us.  The  wind  grew  stronger ; 
the  manes  and  tails  of  the  horses,  Vasili's  cloak  and  the 
edges  of  the  boot  took  the  same  direction,  and  desperately 
flapped  in  the  gusts  of  the  furious  wind.  A  large  drop  of 
rain  fell  upon  the  leather  top  of  the  calash  ;  then  another, 
a  third,  a  fourth,  and  suddenly  it  sounded  as  if  some  one 
had  started  drumming  over  our  heads,  and  the  whole 
country  resounded  with  the  even  pattering  of  the  falling 
rain.  By  the  movement  of  Vasili's  elbow  I  could  tell 
that  he  was  untying  his  purse;  the  beggar  continued 
making  the  signs  of  the  cross  and  the  low  obeisances,  and 
ran  along  so  near  the  very  wheels  that  I  thought  he  would 
be  run  over.  "  Give,  for  Christ's  sake  !  "  Finally  a  cop- 
per coin  flew  past  us,  and  the  pitiful  creature,  whose 
dripping  wet  shirt  closely  fitted  his  lean  body,  swaying  in 
the  wind,  stopped  perplexed  in  the  middle  of  the  road,  and 
disappeared  from  my  sight. 

The  slanting  rain  was  driven  by  the  wind,  and  fell  as 
from  a  bucket ;  streams  ran  down  Vasili's  frieze  back  and 
into  a  puddle  of  turbid  water,  which  had  formed  itself  on 
the  boot.  The  dust,  gathering  up  in  globular  form,  was 
clianged  into  liquid  mud,  wliich  was  kneaded  by  the 
turning  wheels.  The  jolts  of  the  carriage  became  less 
frequent,  and  streams  of  turbid  water  ran  along  the 
clayey  ruts.  The  lightning  flashed  over  a  greater  space 
and  was  paler,  and  the  bursts  of  thunder  were  not  so 
striking  in  the  even  patter  of  the  rain. 


THE    STORM  153 

Then  the  rain  fell  in  smaller  drops ;  the  storm-cloud 
broke  up  into  billowy  cloudlets,  and  began  to  grow 
brighter  there  where  the  sun  ought  to  have  been,  and 
through  the  gi-ayish- white  edges  of  the  cloud  a  patch  of 
pure  azure  was  barely  visible.  A  minute  later,  a  timid 
sunbeam  glistened  in  the  puddles  of  the  road,  upon  strips 
of  drizzling  rain  that  fell  as  through  a  sieve,  and  upon 
the  bright,  rain-washed  verdure  along  the  highway.  A 
black  cloud  just  as  threateningly  shrouded  the  opposite 
side  of  the  horizon,  but  I  no  longer  was  afraid  of  it.  I 
experienced  an  inexpressibly  joyful  sensation  of  the 
hope  of  life,  which  rapidly  took  the  place  in  me  of  the 
heavy  feeling  of  terror.  My  soul  was  as  smiling  as  the 
refreshed  and  gladsome  Xature. 

Vasili  threw  back  the  collar  of  his  cloak,  took  off  his 
cap  and  shook  it ;  Volodya  threw  back  the  boot ;  I  put 
my  head  out  of  the  calash,  and  eagerly  breathed  the 
fresh,  aromatic  air.  The  bright,  washed  body  of  the 
coach  with  its  portmanteaus  and  boxes  swayed  in  front 
of  us ;  the  backs  of  the  horses,  the  harness,  the  lines,  the 
tires,  —  everything  was  wet  and  glistened  in  the  sun,  as 
if  it  were  freshly  varnished. 

On  one  side  of  the  road  was  a  boundless  field  of  winter 
grain,  which  was  here  and  there  intercepted  by  shallow 
hollows ;  it  gleamed  with  its  wet  earth  and  verdure,  and 
spread  its  shady  carpet  to  the  very  horizon.  On  the 
other  side  was  an  aspen  grove,  overgrown  with  hazel  and 
black  alder  bushes ;  it  stood  as  though  in  a  superabun- 
dance of  happiness,  without  stirring,  and  slowly  shed  bright 
drops  of  rain  from  its  clean- washed  branches  on  the  dry 
last  year's  leaves  below.  On  all  sides  crested  skylarks 
circled  with  their  merry  songs,  or  rapidly  swooped  down ; 
in  the  wet  bushes  could  be  heard  the  busy  movements  of 
tiny  birds,  and  from  the  middle  of  the  grove  resounded 
the  voice  of  the  cuckoo. 

So  bewitching   to  me  was   the  exquisite  fragrance  of 


154  BOYHOOD 

the  forest  after  a  vernal  storm,  —  the  sweet  odour  of  the 
birches,  the  violets,  the  sere  leaves,  tlie  clavarias,  and  the 
bird-cherry,  that  I  was  not  able  to  stay  in  the  calash, 
leaped  down  from  the  carriage  step,  ran  into  the  bushes 
and,  paying  no  attention  to  the  rain-drops  that  showered 
down  upon  me,  broke  off  some  wet  branches  of  budding 
bird-cherry,  and  struck  my  face  with  it,  intoxicating  my- 
self with  its  exquisite  aroma.  I  did  not  even  pay  any 
attention  to  the  fact  that  immense  clods  of  dirt  were 
sticking  to  my  boots,  and  that  my  stockings  were  quite 
wet,  but,  plashing  through  the  mud,  ran  to  the  window 
of  the  coach. 

"  Lyiibochka !  Katenka ! "  I  cried,  giving  them  a  few 
branches  of  bird-cherry.     "  Just  see,  how  nice  it  is  !  " 

The  girls  screamed  and  went  into  ecstasies,  and  Mimi 
cried  that  I  should  go  away,  or  I  would  be  run  over. 

"  Just  smell  it,  how  nice  it  is  !  "  I  cried. 


III. 

A    NEW    VIEW 

Katenka  sat  near  me  in  the  calash  and,  inclining 
her  pretty  head,  pensively  followed  the  dusty  road  which 
retreated  under  the  wheels.  I  looked  at  her  in  silence, 
and  I  was  surprised  at  the  unchildlike,  sad  expression  which 
I  had  observed  for  the  first  time  upon  her  rosy  face. 

"  Now,  we  shall  soon  be  in  Moscow,"  I  said.  "  What 
do  you  think  of  Moscow  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  know,"  she  answered,  unwillingly. 

"  Anyway,  what  do  you  think  ?  Is  it  larger  than  Ser- 
pukhov, or  not  ? " 

"What?"  .    .       ,    . 

"Oh,  nothing." 

But,  with  the  instinctive  feeling,  with  which  one 
guesses  the  thoughts  of  another,  and  which  serves  as  the 
guiding  thread  to  a  conversation,  Katenka  understood 
that  her  indifference  pained  me.  She  raised  her  head, 
and  turned  toward  me. 

"  Papa  told  you  that  we  are  to  live  at  grandmother's  ?  " 

«  He  did.     Grandmother  wants  us  all  to  live  together." 

"  And  we  shall  all  live  there  ? " 

"Of  course.  We  shall  live  up-stairs,  occupying  one 
half,  you  the  other,  and  papa  the  wing ;  but  we  shall  eat 
together  down-stairs,  with  grandmother." 

"  Mamma  says  that  grandmother  is  such  a  serious 
woman,  and  has  such  a  quick  temper." 

155 


156  BOYHOOD 

"  N-no !  That  seems  so  only  at  first.  She  is  serious, 
but  uot  impatient ;  on  the  contrary,  she  is  good  and  jolly. 
You  ought  to  have  seen  what  a  party  there  was  upon  her 
name  day  ! " 

"  Still,  1  am  afraid  of  her ;  and,  besides,  God  knows 
whether  we  shall  —  " 

Katenka  suddenly  grew  silent,  and  again  fell  to  mus- 

iug- 

"  Wha-at  ? "     I  asked  in  agitation. 

"  Nothing,  I  just  was  thinking." 

"  No,  you  said  :  '  God  knows.' " 

"  So  you  said  that  you  had  a  party  at  grandmother's." 

"  Yes,  it  is  a  pity  you  were  not  there.  There  were  a 
lot  of  people,  —  a  thousand  people,  —  music,  and  generals, 
and  I  danced.  Katenka ! "  I  suddenly  said,  stopping  in 
the  middle  of  my  description,  "  you  are  not  listening ! " 

"  Yes,  I  am ;  you  said  that  you  were  dancing." 

"  Why  are  you  so  sad  ? " 

"  One  can't  always  be  merry."  * 

"  No,  you  have  changed  a  great  deal  since  we  came 
back  from  Moscow.  Tell  me  truly,"  I  added  with  a  firm 
glance,  turning  toward  her,  "  why  have  you  become  so 
strange  ?  " 

"  Am  I  ? "  Katenka  answered  with  animation,  which 
proved  that  my  remark  interested  her.  "  I  am  not 
strange  at  all." 

"  No,  you  are  not  the  same  you  used  to  be,"  I  con- 
tinned.  "  Formerly  it  was  evident  that  you  were  one 
with  us  in  everything,  that  you  regarded  us  as  your  rela- 
tives and  loved  us  as  we  love  you ;  but  now  you  have 
become  so  solemn,  and  you  keep  away  from  us  —  " 

"  Not  at  all ! " 

"  No,  let  me  finish,"  I  interrupted  her,  as  I  began  to 
feel  a  light  tickling  in  my  nose,  which  preceded  the  tears 
that  always  stood  in  my  eyes  when  I  expressed  a  long 
repressed  secret  thought.     "  You  keep  away  from  us,  and 


A   NEW   VIEW  157 

talk  only  with  Mimi,  as  though  you  did  not  wish  to 
know  us," 

"  A  person  can't  always  be  one  and  the  same ;  one  has 
to  change  sometime,"  answered  Kateuka,  who  was  in  the 
habit  of  explaining  everything  by  a  certain  fatalistic 
necessity,  whenever  she  did  not  know  what  to  say. 

I  recalled  how  once,  when  she  had  quarrelled  with 
Lyiibochka,  who  had  called  her  a  "silly  girl,"  she  had 
answered :  "  Not  everybody  can  be  clever,  somebody  has 
to  be  silly,"  but  I  was  not  satisfied  with  the  answer  that 
one  has  to  change  sometime,  so  I  continued  my  inquiry : 

"  But  why  must  one  ?  " 

"  We  shall  not  be  living  together  all  the  time,"  Katenka 
answered,  lightly  blushing  and  looking  fixedly  at  Filipp's 
back.  "  Mamma  was  able  to  stay  at  the  house  of  your 
mother,  who  was  her  friend ;  but  it  is  yet  a  question 
whether  she  will  be  able  to  get  along  with  the  countess, 
who,  they  say,  is  such  an  irritable  woman.  And,  besides, 
we  shall  have  to  part  sometime:  you  are  rich,  —  you 
have  the  Petrovskoe  estate,  and  we  are  poor,  —  mamma 
has  nothing." 

"  You  are  rich,  we  are  poor,"  these  words  and  the  con- 
ceptions which  were  connected  with  them  appeared 
uncommonly  strange  to  me.  According  to  the  ideas 
which  I  then  had,  only  beggars  and  peasants  could  be 
poor,  and  I  in  no  way  w^as  able  in  my  imagination  to  con- 
nect this  idea  of  poverty  with  graceful,  pretty  Katenka. 
It  seemed  to  me  that  Mimi  and  Katenka,  who  had  always 
lived  with  us,  would  remain  with  us  for  ever,  and  that 
everything  would  be  divided  equally.  It  could  not  be 
otherwise.  Now,  a  thousand  new,  indistinct  ideas  in 
regard  to  their  lonely  condition  nestled  in  my  brain,  and 
I  felt  so  ashamed  that  we  were  rich,  and  they  poor,  that  I 
blushed  and  could  not  take  courage  to  look  up  into 
Katenka's  face. 

"  What  of  it,  if  we  are  rich,  and  they  poor  ?  "  I  thought. 


158  BOYHOOD 

"  and  how  does  the  necessity  for  our  separation  follow  from 
it  ?  Why  can't  we  divide  equally  what  we  have  ? "  But 
I  understood  that  it  was  not  proper  to  speak  with  Katenka 
about  it,  and  a.  certain  practical  instinct  told  me,  in  oppo- 
sition to  my  logical  observations,  that  she  was  right,  and 
that  it  would  be  out  of  place  to  explain  my  thought  to 
her. 

"  You  really  mean  to  leave  us  ? "  I  said  ;  "  but  how  are 
we  going  to  live  separately  ? " 

"  What  is  to  be  done  ?  I  am  sorry  myself.  Only, 
when  this  happens,  I  know  what  I  shall  do  —  " 

"  You  will  become  an  actress  !  What  nonsense  !  "  I 
interrupted  her,  for  I  knew  that  it  was  her  favourite  dream 
to  become  an  actress. 

"  No,  I  used  to  say  that  when  I  was  little." 

"  Then,  what  are  you  going  to  do  ?  " 

"  I  will  go  to  a  monastery  to  live,  and  I  will  wear  a 
black  dress  and  a  velvet  bonnet." 

Katenka  burst  out  weeping. 

My  reader,  have  you  ever  happened  to  notice  at  a  cer- 
tain stage  of  your  life,  how  your  view  of  things  completely 
clianged,  as  though  all  the  things  which  you  used  to  know, 
heretofore,  suddenly  turned  a  different,  unfamiliar  side  to 
you  ?  Some  such  moral  transformation  took  place  in  me 
for  the  first  time,  during  our  journey,  and  from  this  I 
count  the  beginning  of  my  boyhood. 

I  obtained  for  the  first  time  a  clear  idea  of  the  fact  that 
we,  that  is,  our  family,  were  not  alone  in  tlie  world,  that 
not  all  interests  centred  about  us,  and  that  there  was 
another  life  for  people  who  had  nothing  in  common  witli 
us,  who  did  not  care  for  us,  and  who  even  did  not  have 
any  idea  of  our  existence.  To  be  sure,  I  knew  it  before ; 
but  I  did  not  know  it  in  the  same  manner  as  now,- —  I 
was  not  conscious  of  it,  did  not  feel  it. 

A  thought  passes  into  a  conviction  only  by  one  certain 
road,  which  is  frequently  quite  unexpected  and  different 


A    NEW   VIEW  159 

from  the  roads  which  other  minds  pass  over,  in  order 
to  obtain  the  same  conviction.  My  conversation  with 
Katenka,  which  had  touched  me  so  powerfully,  and  had 
caused  me  to  consider  her  future  position,  was  that  road 
for  me.  When  I  looked  at  the  villages  and  towns,  through 
which  we  passed,  where  in  every  house  lived  at  least  one 
such  family  as  ours,  at  the  women  and  children,  who  with 
a  moment's  curiosity  gazed  at  the  carriage,  and  then  for 
ever  disappeared  from  view,  at  the  shopkeepers  and  peas- 
ants, who  not  only  did  not  greet  us,  as  I  was  used  to  being 
greeted  at  Petrdvskoe,  but  did  not  even  favour  us  with  their 
glances,  —  the  question  for  the  first  time  troubled  me, 
what  it  was  that  could  interest  them,  if  they  did  not  at 
all  care  for  us.  And  from  this  question  originated  others. 
What  they  lived  by,  and  how  ?  How  they  were  educated  ? 
Whether  people  taught  them,  and  let  them  play,  and  how 
they  punished  them  ?  and  so  forth. 


IV. 

AT   MOSCOW 

Upon  arriving  at  Moscow,  my  changed  view  of  things 
and  men,  and  my  relation  to  them  became  even  more  per- 
ceptible. 

When,  at  my  first  meeting  with  grandmother,  I  saw  her 
thin,  wrinkled  face  and  dim  eyes,  my  feelings  of  servile 
respect  and  awe,  which  I  used  to  experience  before  her, 
gave  way  to  compassion ;  and  when  she,  burying  her  face 
in  Lyiibochka's  head,  sobbed  as  if  the  body  of  her  be- 
loved daughter  were  before  her  eyes,  my  compassion  was 
changed  even  into  a  feehiig  of  affection.  I  felt  ill  at 
ease,  when  I  saw  her  grief  at  our  first  meeting.  I  was 
conscious  of  the  fact  that  we  were  nothing  in  her  eyes  in 
our  own  persons,  and  that  we  were  dear  to  her  only  as  a 
memory ;  I  felt  that  in  every  kiss,  which  she  showered 
upon  my  cheeks,  only  this  thouglit  was  expressed :  she  is 
no  more,  she  is  dead,  and  I  shall  never  see  her  again ! 

Papa,  who  in  Moscow  paid  very  little  attention  to  us, 
and,  with  an  ever  worried  face,  came  to  us  only  for  din- 
ner, in  a  black  coat  or  dress  coat,  together  with  his  tall 
shirt  collars,  with  his  wadded  morning-gown,  his  village 
elders,  stewards,  visits  to  the  threshing-floor  and  hunts, 
had  lost  much  in  my  eyes.  Karl  Ivanovich,  whom  grand- 
mother called  "  valet,"  and  who,  God  knows  why,  had  sud- 
denly taken  it  into  his  head  to  exchange  his  respectable, 
familiar  bald  head  for  a  red  wig  with  a  straight  parting 
almost  in  the  middle,  appeared  so  odd  and  ridiculous  to 

IGO 


AT    MOSCOW  161 

me,  that  I  wondered  how  it  was  I  had  never  noticed  it 
before. 

An  invisible  barrier  had  arisen  also  between  the  girls 
and  ourselves.  We  all  had  secrets  of  our  own.  They 
evidently  were  proud  of  their  skirts,  which  were  getting 
longer,  and  we  were  proud  of  our  pantaloons  with  straps. 
Mimi  on  the  first  Sunday  came  to  dinner  in  such  a  swell 
dress  and  with  such  ribbons  upon  her  head,  that  one  could 
see  at  once  we  were  no  longer  in  the  country,  and  every- 
thing would  go  differently  now. 


V. 

MY    ELDER    BROTHER 

I  WAS  only  a  year  and  a  few  months  younger  than 
Volodya ;  we  grew  up,  studied,  and  always  played  to- 
gether. No  distinction  of  elder  and  younger  was  made 
between  us ;  but  just  about  this  time  of  which  I  am 
speaking,  I  began  to  understand  that  Volodya  was  not 
my  companion  either  in  years,  inclinations,  or  ability.  It 
even  seemed  to  me  that  Volodya  himself  recognized  his 
seniority,  and  was  proud  of  it.  This  impression,  how- 
ever false  it  may  have  been,  inspired  me  with  an  egoism 
which  suffered  at  every  conflict  with  him.  He  stood 
higher  than  I  in  everything :  in  games,  in  study,  in  dis- 
putes, in  the  ability  to  carry  himself,  —  and  all  this 
removed  me  from  him,  and  caused  me  to  experience  in- 
comprehensible moral  suffering.  If,  when  Volodya  for 
the  first  time  received  Dutch  shirts  with  turned  down 
collars,  I  had  said  straight  out  that  I  was  angry  because 
I  did  not  have  such  myself,  I  am  sure  I  should  have  felt 
more  at  ease,  and  should  not  have  thought  every  time  he 
fixed  his  collar  that  he  was  doing  it  only  to  annoy  me. 

I  was  vexed  most  of  all  by  the  fact  that  Volodya 
seemed  to  understand  me  but  tried  to  conceal  it. 

Who  has  not  noticed  those  mysterious,  wordless  rela- 
tions which  manifest  tliemselves  in  a  scarcely  visible 
smile,  in  the  motion  or  glance  of  persons  who  always  live 
together,  in  brothers,  friends,  husband  and  wife,  master 
and  servant,  especially  when  these  people  are  not  entirely 

162 


MY    ELDER    BROTHER  163 

open  to  each  other  ?  How  mauy  imuttered  desires, 
thoughts,  and  fears  of  not  being  understood  are  expressed 
in  one  casual  glance,  when  your  eyes  meet  timidly  and 
with  indecision  ! 

But,  it  may  be,  my  excessive  sensibility  and  tendency 
for  analysis  deceived  me  in  this  respect ;  it  may  be, 
Volddya  did  not  feel  at  all  as  I  did.  He  w^as  impassioned, 
open,  and  inconstant  in  his  emotions.  When  he  was 
carried  away  by  any  matter  whatsoever,  he  gave  himself 
up  to  it  with  his  whole  soul. 

Suddenly  he  w^ould  be  smitten  with  a  passion  for  pic- 
tures: he  immediately  began  to  paint,  bought  pictures 
with  all  his  pocket  money,  begged  them  of  his  teacher  of 
drawing,  from  papa,  and  from  grandmother;  or  with 
a  passion  for  trifles  with  which  to  adorn  his  table,  and 
which  he,  therefore,  gathered  up  all  over  the  house ;  or 
with  a  passion  for  novels,  which  he  secretly  procured  and 
read  for  days  and  nights  at  a  time.  I  was  involuntarily 
carried  away  by  his  passions,  but  was  too  proud  to  follow 
in  his  footsteps,  and  too  young  and  dependent  to  choose 
a  road  for  myself.  I  envied  nothing  so  much  as  Volddya's 
felicitous,  noble,  and  open-hearted  character,  which  was 
expressed  with  particular  precision  in  the  quai'rels  which 
arose  between  us.  I  felt  that  he  was  doing  right,  but  I 
was  unable  to  imitate  him. 

Once,  while  his  passion  for  things  was  at  white  heat,  I 
walked  up  to  his  table  and  by  chance  broke  an  empty, 
gaily  coloured  bottle. 

"  Who  asked  you  to  touch  my  things  ?  "  said  Volodya, 
who  had  just  entered  the  room  and  noticed  the  disorder 
which  I  had  produced  in  the  symmetry  of  the  various 
ornaments  on  his  table.  "  And  where  is  the  bottle  ?  I 
am  sure,  you  —  " 

"  Accidentally  dropped  it,  and  it  was  broken.  I  am 
sorry." 

"  Do  me  the  favour,  and  never  dare  to  touch  any  of  my 


164  BOYHOOD 

things  again,"  he  said,  putting  together  the  pieces  of  the 
broken  bottle,  and  looking  at  tliein  with  deep  regret. 

"  Please  do  not  command"  I  answered.  "  I  have 
broken  it,  and  that  is  the  end  of  it ;  what  is  the  use  of 
saying  anything  about  it  ?  " 

And  I  sniiled,  although  I  did  not  feel  in  the  least  like 
smiling. 

"  Yes,  it  is  nothing  to  you,  but  it  is  much  to  me," 
continued  Volodya,  shrugging  his  shoulder,  which  gesture 
he  had  inherited  from  papa.  "  You  broke  it,  and  now 
you  laugh  !     What  an  unbearable  urchin  !  " 

"  I  am  an  urchin,  and  you  are  big  and  stupid." 

"  I  do  not  intend  having  any  words  with  you,"  said 
Volodya,  lightly  brushing  me  aside.     "  Get  away !  " 

"  Don't  push  me  !  " 

"  Get  away  ! " 

"  I  tell  you,  don't  push  me  !  " 

Volodya  took  hold  of  my  arm,  and  was  about  to  pull 
me  away  from  the  table,  but  I  was  in  the  highest  degree 
excited,  and  so  I  seized  the  leg  of  the  table,  and  upset  it. 

"  There  you  have  it ! "  and  all  the  porcelain  and  crystal 
ornaments  fell  to  the  ground  with  a  crash. 

"  Disgusting  urchin ! "  cried  Volodya,  trying  to  catch 
the  falling  objects. 

"  Well,  now  everything  is  ended  between  us,"  thought 
I,  as  I  left  the  room.  "  We  shall  be  enemies  from 
now  on." 

We  did  not  speak  with  each  other  until  evening.  I 
felt  I  was  guilty,  was  afraid  to  look  at  him,  and  could 
not  do  a  thing  all  day  ;  Volddya,  on  the  contrary,  studied 
well,  and,  as  usual,  chatted  and  laughed  with  the  girls 
after  dinner. 

The  moment  our  teacher  was  through  with  our  lesson, 
I  left  the  room,  for  I  felt  ill  at  ease,  awkward,  and 
ashamed  in  the  presence  of  my  brother.  After  our  even- 
ing lesson  in  history,  I  took  my  copy-books  and  started 


MY    ELDER    BROTHER  165 

for  the  door.  When  I  passed  by  Volodya,  T  felt  at  heart 
like  going  to  him  and  making  up  with  him,  but  I  pouted 
and  tried  to  look  angry.  Volodya  just  happened  to  raise 
his  head,  and  he  looked  at  me  with  a  barely  noticeable, 
open-hearted,  derisive  smile.  Our  eyes  met,  and  I  knew 
that  he  understood  me,  and  that  he  understood  that  I 
knew  that  he  understood,  but  some  irresistible  feeling 
made  me  turn  away. 

"  Nikolenka  !  "  he  said  to  me  in  the  simplest,  not  in  the 
least  pathetic  voice,  "  stop  pouting.  Pardon  me,  if  I  have 
offended  you." 

And  he  gave  me  his  hand. 

I  felt  as  if  something  was  rising  in  my  throat  and 
choking  me  ;  but  that  lasted  only  a  minute ;  tears  rolled 
down  my  eyes,  and  I  felt  better. 

"  For — give  —  me  —  Vol — dya  ! "  said  I,  pressing  his 
hand. 

Volodya  looked  at  me  as  though  he  could  not  under- 
stand why  the  tears  were  in  my  eyes. 


VI. 

MASHA 

Not  one  of  the  changes  which  had  taken  place,  in  my 
view  of  things,  was  so  striking,  so  far  as  I  myself  was 
concerned,  as  the  one  by  which  I  ceased  to  see  in  one  of 
our  chambermaids  merely  a  female  servant,  and  began  to 
see,  instead,  a  woman,  on  whom,  in  a  certain  degree,  my 
peace  and  happiness  might  depend.  As  far  back  as  I  can 
remember  myself,  I  remember  Masha  in  our  house,  but 
never  had  I  paid  the  slightest  attention  to  her,  before 
the  incident  had  taken  place  which  completely  changed 
my  view  of  her,  and  which  I  shall  now  relate.  Masha 
was  about  twenty-five  years  old,  when  I  was  fourteen. 
She  was  very  pretty,  but  I  am  afraid  to  describe  her,  lest 
my  imagination  should  reproduce  the  enchanting  and  de- 
ceptive image  which  formed  itself  during  my  passion. 
Not  to  make  any  mistake,  I  shall  only  say  that  she 
was  uncommonly  white,  voluptuously  developed,  and  a 
woman,  —  and  I  was  fourteen  years  old. 

In  one  of  those  moments,  when  with  lesson  in  hand 
one  paces  up  and  down  the  room,  trying  to  step  only  on 
the  cracks  between  the  deals,  or  sings  some  senseless  air, 
or  smears  ink  over  the  edges  of  the  table,  or  repeats  some 
meaningless  words,  —  in  short,  in  one  of  those  moments, 
when  tlie  mind  refuses  to  work,  and  the  imagination  is 
uppermost  and  seeks  impressions,  I  left  the  class-room 
and  aimlessly  went  to  the  lauding  of  the  stairs. 

Somebody   was   ascending  the  stairs  in  shoes,  at  the 

106 


MASHA  167 

lower  turn  of  the  staircase.  Of  course,  I  wanted  to  know 
who  it  was,  but  suddenly  the  noise  of  the  steps  died 
down,  and  I  heard  Masha's  voice  :  "  Please  don't !  Stop 
your  nonsense!  If  Marya  Ivanovna  should  come  upon 
you,  it  would  go  ill  with  you ! " 

"  She  will  not  come,"  I  heard  Volodya's  voice  in  a 
whisper,  and  right  after  something  rustled,  as  if  Volodya 
were  trying  to  hold  her  back. 

"  Where  are  you  putting  your  hand  ?  For  shame ! " 
and  Masha,  with  her  kerchief  awry  on  her  head,  display- 
ing her  full  white  neck,  rushed  by  me. 

I  can't  explain  how  this  discovery  surprised  me ;  but 
the  feehng  of  surprise  soon  gave  way  to  the  feeling  of 
sympathy  for  Volodya's  act.  I  did  not  so  much  marvel 
at  his  deed,  as  at  his  conclusion  that  it  was  agreeable  to 
act  thus,     I  involuntarily  wanted  to  imitate  him. 

I  often  passed  hours  at  a  time  upon  the  landing  of  the 
staircase,  listening  with  the  closest  attention  to  the 
slightest  movements  above  me  ;  but  I  could  never  bring 
myself  to  imitate  Volodya,  though  I  wished  to  do  that 
more  than  anything  else  in  the  world.  At  times  I  hid 
behind  the  door,  and  with  a  heavy  feeling  of  envy  and 
jealousy  listened  to  the  disturbance  in  the  maids'  room, 
and  I  wondered  what  my  situation  would  be  if  I  walked 
up-stairs  and-  tried  to  kiss  Masha,  just  as  Volodya  had 
done.  What  should  I  have  said  with  my  broad  nose 
and  towering  tufts  of  hair,  if  she  had  asked  me  what  I 
wanted  there  ?  At  times  I  heard  Masha  speaking  to 
Volodya : 

"  This  is  a  true  punishment !  Why  do  you  annoy  me 
so  much  '  Go  away  from  here,  naughty  boy.  Why  does 
Nikolay  Petrovich  never  come  here,  and  bother  me  ? " 

She  did  not  know  that  Nikolay  Petrovich  was  at  that 
moment  sitting  under  the  staircase,  and  that  he  would 
gladly  have  given  everything  in  the  world,  if  he  could 
be  in  the  place   of  naughty   Volodya. 


168  BOYHOOD 

I  was  bashful  by  nature,  aud  my  bashfulness  only 
increased  my  conviction  that  I  was  homely.  I  am  con- 
vinced that  nothing  lias  such  a  telling  influence  upon  the 
direction  of  a  man's  life  as  his  looks,  and  not  so  much 
his  looks  as  his  conviction  of  their  attractiveness  or 
unattractiveness. 

I  was  too  egoistic  to  get  used  to  my  situation,  and 
tried  to  convince  myself,  like  the  fox,  that  the  grapes 
were  yet  too  green ;  that  is,  I  tried  to  despise  all  the 
pleasures  which  are  brought  about  by  a  pleasant  counte- 
nance, such  as,  in  my  opinion,  Volodya  enjoyed,  and 
such  as  I  envied  with  all  my  heart,  and  I  exerted  all 
the  powers  of  mind  and  imagination  to  find  pleasure 
in  haughty  soUtude. 


vn. 

SHOT 

"  0  LOED,  powder ! "  cried  out  Mimi,  in  a  voice  of 
breathless  agitation.  "  What  are  you  doing  ?  You  want 
to  burn  the  house,  and  to  ruin  us  all  —  " 

And  Mimi  ordered,  with  an  indescribable  expression  of 
fortitude,  all  persons  present  to  step  aside,  strutted  with 
firm  steps  up  to  the  scattered  shot,  and,  despising  all 
danger  which  might  be  produced  from  a  sudden  explo- 
sion, began  to  tramp  it  witli  her  feet.  When  the  dan- 
ger, in  her  opinion,  was  passed,  she  called  Mikh(5y  and 
ordered  him  to  throw  all  that  "  powder "  as  far  away 
as  possible,  or,  better  still,  into  tlie  water,  and,  proudly 
shaking  her  cap,  directed  her  steps  to  the  drawing- 
room.  "  They  are  watching  them  well,  I  must  say," 
she  grumbled. 

When  papa  came  from  the  wing,  and  we  went  together 
to  grandmother,  Mimi  was  already  sitting  in  the  room 
near  the  window,  and  sternly  looked  beyond  the  door 
with  a  certain  mysterious  and  official  glance.  In  her 
hand  was  something  wrapped  in  several  folds  of  paper. 
I  guessed  that  it  was  the  shot,  and  that  grandmother,  no 
doubt,  knew  everything. 

Besides  Mimi,  there  were  in  grandmother's  room  cham- 
bermaid Gasha,  who,  to  judge  from  her  angry  red  face, 
was  greatly  agitated,  and  Doctor  Blumenthal,  a  small, 
pockmarked    man,    who    was    trying   in    vain    to    quiet 

169 


170  BOYHOOD 

Gasha,  by  making  with  his  eyes  and  head  some  mysteri- 
ous, pacifying  signs  to  her. 

Grandmother  herself  was  sitting  a  httle  to  one  side, 
and  was  laying  out  a  solitaire,  a  "  Traveller,"  which 
always  signified  a  very  inauspicious  frame  of  mind. 

"  How  are  you  feeling  to-day,  mamma  ?  Have  you 
rested  well  ? "  asked  papa,  respectfully  kissing  her  hand. 

"  Nicely,  my  dear.  I  think  you  know  that  I  am 
always  well,"  answered  grandmother,  in  a  tone  which 
indicated  that  the  question  was  very  much  out  of  place 
and  offensive.  "  Well,  are  you  going  to  give  me  a  clean 
handkerchief  ? "  she  continued,  turning  to  Gasha. 

"  I  have  handed  it  to  you,"  answered  Gasha,  pointing 
to  a  snow-white  batiste  handkerchief,  which  was  lying  on 
the  arm  of  the  chair. 

"  Take  away  this  dirty  rag,  and  give  me  a  clean  hand- 
kerchief, my  dear ! " 

Gasha  walked  up  to  the  chiffonier,  pulled  out  a  drawer, 
and  slammed  it  so  hard  that  the  windows  of  the  room 
began  to  rattle.  Grandmother  looked  sternly  at  all  of  us, 
and  continued  to  watch  all  the  movements  of  the  cham- 
bermaid. Wlien  she  handed  to  her,  as  it  seemed  to 
me,  the  same   handkerchief,  grandmother  said : 

"  And  when  are  yoii  going  to  crush  some  snuff  for  me, 
my  dear  ? " 

"  I  will  crush  it,  if  I  have  time." 

"  What  did  you  say  ? " 

"  I  will  crush  it  to-day." 

"  If  you  do  not  wish  to  serve  with  me,  my  dear,  you 
ought  to  say  so ;  I  should  have  let  you  off  long  ago." 

"You  may  let  me  off;  I  sha'n't  cry,"  grumbled  the 
chambermaid,  half  aloud. 

Just  then  the  doctor  began  to  beckon  to  her,  but  she 
looked  at  him  so  angrily  and  firmly,  that  he  immediately 
dropped  his  head,  and  busied  himself  with  his  watch-key. 

"  You    see,    my    dear,"   said    grandmother,  turning  to 


SHOT  171 

papa,  when  Gasha,  continuing  to  grumble,  left  the  room, 
"  how  they  treat  me  in  my  own  house  ? " 

"  Permit  me,  mamma,  I  shall  crush  some  snutf  for  you, 
myself,"  said  papa,  who,  evidently,  was  much  perplexed 
by  this  unexpected  behaviour. 

"  No,  thank  you :  she  is  so  impudent  because  she 
knows  that  no  one  else  knows  so  well  how  to  crush  the 
snuff  as  I  like  it.  You  know,  my  dear,"  continued  grand- 
mother, after  a  moment's  silence,  "  that  your  children 
came  very  near  burning  the  house  to-day  ? " 

Papa  looked  with  respectful  curiosity  at  grandmother. 

"  Yes,  that  is  what  they  are  playing  with.  Show  it 
to  him,"  she  said,  turning  to  Mimi. 

Papa  took  the  shot  in  his  hand,  and  could  not  help 
smiling. 

"  But  this  is  shot,"  he  said,  "  and  it  is  not  at  all 
dangerous." 

"  Thank  you,  my  dear,  for  instructing  me,  only  I  am 
a  little  too  old  —  " 

"  Nerves,  nerves  !  "  whispered  the  doctor. 

And  papa  forthwith  turned  to  us : 

"  Where  did  you  get  it  ?  and  how  dare  you  play  with 
such  things  ? " 

"  You  do  not  have  to  ask  them,  but  you  had  better 
ask  the  valet"  said  grandmother,  pronouncing  the  word 
"  valet "  with  especial  contempt.  "  That  is  the  way  he  is 
watching." 

"  Vdldemar  said  that  Karl  Ivauovich  himself  had 
given  him  this  powder,"  Mimi  hastened  to  add. 

"  Now,  you  see  what  a  fine  man  he  is,"  continued 
grandmother.  "  And  where  is  he,  that  valet,  what  do 
you  call  him  ?     Send  for  him  ! " 

"  I  have  given  him  permission  to  make  some  visits," 
said  papa. 

"  That  is  no  reason.  He  ought  always  to  be  here. 
The  children   are  not   mine,  but  yours,   and   I  have   no 


172  BOYHOOD 

right  to  advise  you,  because  you  are  wiser  than  I,"  con- 
tinued grandmother,  "  but  it  seems  to  me,  it  is  time  to 
get  a  tutor  for  them,  and  not  a  valet,  a  German  churl. 
Yes,  a  stupid  churl  who  can't  teach  them  anything  but 
bad  manners  and  Tyrolese  songs.  I  ask  you,  what  need 
have  your  children  to  know  how  to  sing  Tyrolese  songs? 
However,  noiv  there  is  nobody  to  think  of  these  things, 
and  you  may  do  as  you  please." 

The  word  "  now  "  meant  "  since  they  have  no  mother," 
and  it  called  forth  sad  memories  in  grandmother's  heart. 
She  lowered  her  eyes  upon  the  snuff-box  with  a  portrait 
upon  it,  and  fell  to  musing. 

"  I  have  been  thinking  of  it  for  quite  awhile,"  papa 
hastened  to  say,  "  and  had  intended  to  take  counsel  with 
you,  mamma.  Had  I  not  better  propose  the  place  to  St. 
Jerome,  who  has  been  giving  them  hour  lessons  ?  " 

"  You  will  do  well,  my  dear,"  said  grandmother,  no 
longer  in  the  dissatisfied  voice  in  which  she  had  been 
speaking.  "  St.  Jerome  is  at  least  a  tutor,  who  will  know 
how  to  manage  des  enfants  de  honne  maison,  and  not  an 
ordinary  menin  valet,  who  is  only  good  to  take  them  out 
for  an  airing." 

"  I  will  speak  to  him  to-morrow,"  said  papa. 

Two  days  after  this  conversation,  Karl  Ivanovich  really 
gave  up  his  place  to  the  young  French  dandy. 


VIII. 

THE    HISTORY    OF    KARL    IVANOVICH 

Late  in  the  evening  preceding  the  day  when  Karl 
Ivanovich  was  for  ever  to  leave  us,  he  stood  in  his  wadded 
gown  and  red  cap  near  his  bed  and,  bending  over  his 
portmanteau,  packed  his  things  with  great  care. 

Toward  the  end  Karl  Ivauovich's  behaviour  to  us  was 
exceedingly  formal ;  he  seemed  to  avoid  all  relations  with 
us.  Even  now,  when  I  entered  the  room,  he  looked  at 
me  askance,  and  again  betook  himself  to  his  work.  I  lay 
down  on  my  bed,  and  Karl  Ivanovich,  who  formerly  used 
to  forbid  it,  said  not  a  word  to  me,  and  the  thought  that 
he  no  longer  would  scold  us,  nor  stop  us,  and  that  he  had 
no  business  with  us,  vividly  reminded  me  of  the  impend- 
ing separation.  I  felt  sad  because  he  no  longer  loved  us, 
and  I  wished  to  express  this  feeling  to  him. 

"  Permit  me  to  help  you,  Karl  Ivanovich,"  I  said,  ap- 
proaching him. 

He  looked  at  me  and  again  turned  away,  but  in  the 
cursory  glance  which  he  cast  upon  nie  I  read  not  indif- 
ference, by  which  I  explained  his  coldness,  but  genuine 
and  concentrated  sorrow. 

"  God  sees  everything  and  knows  everything,  and  His 
holy  will  is  in  everything,"  he  said,  straightening  himself 
out  the  full  length  of  his  stature,  and  drawing  a  deep 
breath.  "  Yes,.  Nikolenka,"  he  continued,  when  he  no- 
ticed the  expression  of  sincere  sympathy  with  which  I 
was  looking  at  him,  "  it  has  been  my  fate  to  be  unhappy 

173 


174  BOYHOOD 

from  my  earliest  childhood  to  my  grave.  I  have  always 
becu  paid  with  evil  for  the  good  which  I  have  done 
people,  and  my  reward  is  not  here,  but  there,"  he  said, 
pointing  to  heaven.  "  If  you  knew  my  history  and  all  I 
have  suffered  in  this  life !  I  was  a  shoemaker,  I  was  a 
soldier,  I  was  a  deserter,  I  was  a  manufacturer,  I  was  a 
teacher,  and  now  I  am  zero,  and  I  have,  like  the  Son  of 
God,  no  place  where  to  lay  my  head,"  he  concluded  and, 
closing  his  eyes,  dropped  down  into  his  chair. 

Noticing  that  Karl  Ivanovich  was  in  that  sentimental 
frame  of  mind  when  he  paid  no  attention  to  his  hearers 
and  expressed  his  secret  thoughts  to  himself,  I  seated 
myself  on  my  bed,  and  in  silence  fixed  my  eyes  on  his 
good  face. 

"  You  are  not  a  child,  you  can  understand !  I  shall 
tell  you  my  history  and  all  I  have  suffered  in  this 
life.  Some  day  you  will  think  of  your  old  friend  who 
loved  you  children  very  much  !  " 

Karl  Ivanovich  leaned  with  his  arm  against  the  small 
table  which  was  standing  near  him,  took  a  pinch  of  snuff, 
and,  rolling  his  eyes  to  heaven,  began  his  story  in  that 
peculiar,  even,  guttural  voice,  in  which  he  generally  dic- 
tated to  us : 

"  I  vos  unhappy  even  in  de  lap  of  my  moder.  Das 
Unglilch  verfolgtc  mich  schon  im  Schosse  meiner  3hitter  !  ' 
he  repeated  with  greater  feeling. 

Since  Karl  Ivanovich  told  me  his  history  often  after- 
ward, following  the  same  order,  and  using  the  same  ex- 
pressions and  ever  unchanged  intonations,  I  hope  I  shall 
be  able  to  render  it  almost  word  for  word,  except,  of 
course,  for  the  irregularities  of  language,  of  which  the 
reader  may  judge  by  the  first  sentence.  I  have  not  yet 
decided  whether  it  was  his  real  history,  or  the  production 
of  his  fancy,  which  originated  during  his  lonely  life  in  our 
house,  and  which  he  had  himself  come  to  believe  from 
bis  frequent  repetitious,  or  whether  he  had  adorned  the 


THE    HISTORY    OF    KARL    IVANOVICH  175 

actual  facts  of  his  life  with  fantastic  incidents.  On  the 
one  hand,  he  told  his  history  with  too  much  feehng  and 
methodical  consistency,  which  form  the  chief  character- 
istics of  verisimilitude,  not  to  be  heheved ;  on  the  other 
hand,  there  were  too  many  poetical  beauties  in  his  history, 
so  that  these  very  beauties  provoked  doubt. 

"  Through  my  veins  courses  the  noble  blood  of  the 
Counts  of  Sommerblatt !  In  mcinen  Adernjliesst  das  cdle 
Blut  der  Graf  en  von  Sommerhlatt !  I  was  born  six 
weeks  after  the  wedding.  The  husband,  of  my  mother  (I 
called  him  father)  was  a  tenant  at  Count  von  Sommer- 
blatt's.  He  could  not  forget  my  mother's  shame,  and  did 
not  like  me.  I  had  a  smaller  brother,  Johann,  and  two 
sisters  ;  but  I  was  a  stranger  in  my  own  family  !  Ich 
ivar  ein  Fremder  in  meiner  eigenen  Familie  !  When  Jo- 
hann did  anything  naughty,  father  said  :  '  I  shall  not  have 
a  moment  of  peace  with  this  child  Karl ! '  and  I  was 
scolded  and  punished.  When  my  sisters  quarrelled,  father 
said  :  '  Karl  will  never  be  an  obedient  child  ! '  and  I  was 
scolded  and  punished.  Only  my  good  mother  loved  and 
petted  me.  She  frequently  said  to  me, '  Karl,  come  here, 
into  my  room ! '  and  she  softly  kissed  me.  '  Poor,  poor 
Karl,'  she  said,  '  nobody  loves  you,  but  I  would  not  ex- 
change you  for  anybody.  Your  mother  asks  only  this  of 
you,'  she  said  to  me,  '  study  well,  and  be  always  an 
honest  man,  and  God  will  not  abandon  you  ! '  '  Trachte 
nur  ein  ehrlicher  Deutsche}'  zu  werdcn,'  sagte  sic,  'unci  der 
liebe  Gott  wird  dich  nicht  verlasscn  ! '     And  I  tried. 

"  When  I  was  fourteen  years  old,  and  I  could  go  to  con- 
firmation, mother  said  to  father  :  '  Karl  is  now  a  grown- 
up boy,  Gustav.  What  are  we  going  to  do  with  him  ? ' 
And  father  said :  '  I  do  not  know.'  Then  mother  said : 
'  We  shall  take  him  to  town  to  Mr.  Schulz,  so  he  may  be- 
come a  shoemaker  ! '  and  father  said  :  '  All  right ! '  U7id 
mein  Vater  sagte :  '  Gut ! '  I  lived  six  years  and  seven 
months  in  town  with  my  master,  the  shoemaker,  and  my 


176  BOYUOOD 

master  loved  me.  He  said  :  '  Karl  is  a  good  workman, 
and  he  will  soon  be  my  Geselle  ! '  but  man  proposes,  and 
God  disposes.  In  1796  a  general  conscription  was  an- 
nounced, and  everybody  who  could  serve,  from  eighteen 
years  of  age  to  twenty-one,  was  to  appear  in  town. 

"  Father  and  brother  Johann  arrived  in  town,  and  we 
all  went  together  to  cast  a  Zoos,  who  was  to  be  Soldat, 
and  who  was  not  to  be  Soldat.  Johann  drew  a  bad 
number,  —  he  was  to  be  Soldat ;  I  drew  a  good  number, 
—  I  was  not  to  be  Soldat.  And  father  said  :  '  I  had  an 
only  son,  and  I  have  to  part  from  him ! '  '  Ich  hatte  einen 
einzigen  Solin,  und  von  dusem  muss  ich  mich  trennen  !' 

"  I  took  his  hand  and  said :  '  Why  do  you  say  so, 
father  ?  Come  with  me,  and  I  will  tell  you  something.' 
And  father  went.  Father  went,  and  we  seated  ourselves 
in  the  inn  at  a  small  table.  *  Give  us  two  Bierkimg  ! ' 
I  said,  and  they  brought  them  to  us.  We  drank  a  glass 
each,  and  brother  Johann  drank  also. 

" '  Father ! '  I  said,  *  do  not  say  that  you  had  an  only 
son,  and  that  you  have  to  part  from  him  !  My  heart 
wants  to  jump  out,  when  I  hear  this.  Brother  Johann 
shall  not  serve,  —  I  will  be  Soldat.  Karl  is  of  no  use 
here  to  anybody,  and  Karl  will  be  Soldat.' 

" '  You  are  an  honest  man,  Karl  Ivanovich ! '  said 
father  to  me  and  kissed  me.  '  Du  hist  ein  braver  Bursche  ! ' 
sagte  mir  mein  Vater  und  kusste  mich  ! 

"  And  I  became  Soldat." 


IX. 

CONTINUATION 

"  Then  was  a  terrible  time,  Nikoleiika,"  continued 
Karl  Ivanovich,  —  "  then  was  Napoleon.  He  wanted  to 
conquer  Germany,  and  we  defended  our  country  to  our 
last  drop  of  blood  !  unci  wir  verthcidigten  imser  Vatcrland 
his  auf  den  letzten  Tropfcn  Blut  ! 

"  I  was  at  Ulm,  I  was  at  Austerlitz  !  I  was  at  Wagram  ! 
Ich  war  lei  Wagram  !  " 

"  Did  you  yourself  take  part  in  the  battles  ? "  I  asked 
him,  looking  at  him  in  wonderment.  "Did  you  kill 
people  yourself  ? " 

Karl  Ivanovich  soon  quieted  me  in  regard  to  this. 

"  Once  a  French  Grenadier  lagged  behind  his  own,  and 
fell  down  on  the  road.  I  ran  up  to  him  with  my  gun, 
and  wanted  to  pierce  him,  aher  der  Franzose  warf  sein 
Gewehr  und  rief  Pardon,  and  I  let  him  alone  ! 

"  At  Wagram  Napoleon  drove  us  to  an  island,  and 
surrounded  us  so  that  it  was  impossible  to  escape.  We 
had  no  provision  for  three  days,  and  we  stood  up  to  our 
knees  in  water.  Miscreant  Napoleon  neither  took  us 
prisoners,  nor  let  us  get  away !  U7id  der  Bosewicht  Napo- 
leon wollte  uns  nicht  gefangen  nehmen  tend  auch  nicht 
freilassen  ! 

"  On  the  fourth  day,  thank  the  Lord,  we  were  taken 
prisoners,  and  were  led  into  a  fortress.  I  had  my  blue 
pantaloons,  a  uniform  of  good  cloth,  fifteen  thalers  of 
money  and  a  silver  watch,  a  present  from   my   father. 

177 


178  BOYHOOD 

A  French  Soldat  took  it  all  away  from  me.  Fortunately 
I  had  three  ducats  which  mother  had  sewed  up  under  my 
jacket.     Nobody  found  them  ! 

"  I  did  not  wish  to  stay  long  in  the  fortress,  and  so  I 
decided  to  run.  Once,  upon  a  gi-eat  holiday,  I  said  to  the 
sergeant  who  was  watching  us :  '  Mr.  Sergeant,  to-day  is 
a  great  holiday,  and  I  want  to  celebrate  it.  Bring  me, 
if  you  please,  a  bottle  of  Madeira,  and  we  will  drink  it 
together.'  And  the  sergeant  said  '  All  right ! '  When 
the  sergeant  brought  the  Madeira,  and  we  had  drunk  a 
wine-glass  full,  I  took  his  hand,  and  said :  '  Mr.  Sergeant, 
you  probably  have  a  father  and  a  mother,  too.'  He  said : 
'  I  have,  Mr.  Mauer.'  '  My  parents,'  I  said,  '  have  not 
seen  me  for  eight  years,  and  they  do  not  know  whether  I 
am  alive,  or  whether  my  bones  have  long  been  lying  in 
the  damp  earth.  0  Mr.  Sergeant !  I  have  two  ducats 
that  were  under  my  jacket,  —  take  them,  and  let  me  of!" ! 
Be  my  benefactor,  and  my  mother  will  pray  to  the  Al- 
mighty for  you  all  her  life.' 

"  The  sergeant  drank  a  glass  of  Madeira  and  said  :  '  Mr. 
Mauer,  I  love  you  and  pity  you  very  much,  only  you  are 
a  captive,  and  I  am  a  Soldat ! '  I  pressed  his  hand  and 
said :  '  Mr.  Sergeant ! '  leh  driiclde  ihm  die  Hand  tind 
sagte :  '  Hcrr  Scrjant  ! ' 

"  And  the  sergeant  said :  '  You  are  a  poor  man,  and 
I  will  not  take  your  money,  but  I  will  help  you.  When  I 
go  to  bed,  buy  a  pail  of  brandy  for  the  Soldat,  and  they 
will  sleep.     I  will  not  see  you.' 

"  He  was  a  good  man.  I  bought  a  pail  of  brandy,  and 
when  the  Soldat  were  drunk,  I  put  on  my  boots  and  an 
old  cloak,  and  went  softly  out  into  the  yard.  I  went  on 
the  rampart,  and  wanted  to  jump,  but  there  was  water 
below,  and  I  did  not  want  to  spoil  my  last  garment.  I 
went  to  the  gate. 

"  A  sentinel  was  going  avf  und  ah  with  his  gun,  and 
he  looked  at  me  :  '  Qui  vivc  ?  '  sagte  er  auf  ein  Mai,  and  I 


CONTINUATION  179 

was  silent.  '  Qui  vive  ? '  sagte  er  zum  zwciten  Mai,  and 
I  was  silent.  '  Qui  vive  ? '  sagte  er  zum  dritteii  Mai, 
and  I  ran.  I  jumped  into  the  water,  climbed  up  the  other 
side,  and  ran.  Ich  sprang  in's  Wasser,  klctterte  auf  die 
andere  Seite  und  machte  mich  aus  dem  Stauhe. 

"  The  whole  night  I  ran  along  the  road,  but  when  it 
dawned,  I  was  afraid  I  should  be  recognized,  so  I  hid 
myself  in  the  high  rye.  There  I  knelt,  folded  my  hands, 
thanked  the  Heavenly  Father  for  my  salvation,  and  fell 
asleep  with  a  peaceful  feeling.  Ich  danJde  dem  Allmdeh- 
tigen  Gott  fur  seine  Barmherzigheit  und  mit  heruhigtcm 
Gefuhl  scJdief  ich  ein. 

"  I  awoke  in  the  evening  and  walked  on.  Suddenly  a 
large  German  wagon  with  two  black  horses  overtook  me. 
In  the  wagon  sat  a  well-dressed  man,  who  smoked  a  pipe 
and  looked  at  me.  I  went  slower,  to  let  the  wagon  get 
by  me ;  but  as  I  went  slowly,  so  did  the  wagon,  and  the 
man  looked  at  me.  I  went  faster,  and  the  wagon  went 
faster,  and  the  man  looked  at  me.  I  sat  down  near  the 
road ;  the  man  stopped  his  horses,  and  looked  at  me. 
'  Young  man,'  he  said,  '  whither  are  you  going  so  late  ? ' 
I  said :  '  I  am  going  to  Frankfurt.'  '  Get  into  my  wagon, 
there  is  a  place  here,  and  I  will  take  you  there.  Why 
have  you  nothing  with  you,  why  is  your  beard  not  shaven, 
and  why  are  all  your  clothes  dirty  ? '  said  he  to  me,  when 
I  took  my  seat.  '  I  am  a  poor  man,'  I  said,  '  and  I  want 
to  find  some  place  in  a  factory ;  and  my  garments  are 
dirty  because  I  fell  down  on  the  road.'  '  You  are  not 
telling  the  truth,  young  man,'  he  said,  '  the  roads  are  dry 
now.' 

"  And  I  was  silent. 

" '  Tell  me  the  whole  truth,*  said  the  good  man  to  me, 
'  who  you  are,  and  whence  you  are  coming !  I  like  your 
face,  and,  if  you  are  an  honest  man,  I  will  help  you.' 

"  And  I  told  him  everything.  He  said  :  '  All  right, 
young  man,  come  with  me  to  my  rope  factory.     I  will 


180  BOYHOOD 

give  you  work,  clothes,  and  money,  and  you  shall  live 
with  me.' 

"  And  I  said  :  '  All  right ! ' 

"We  came  to  tlie  rope  factory,  and  the  good  man  said 
to  his  wife :  '  Here  is  a  young  man  who  has  fought  for  his 
country  and  has  run  away  from  captivity.  He  has  no 
home  nor  clothes  nor  bread.  He  will  live  with  me. 
Give  him  clean  linen  and  feed  him.' 

"  I  lived  for  a  year  and  a  half  in  the  rope  factory,  and 
my  master  hked  me  so  much  that  he  did  not  wish  to  let 
me  go.  And  I  was  happy  there.  I  was  then  a  hand- 
some man  :  I  was  young,  tall,  had  blue  eyes,  and  a  Koman 

nose,  and  Madame  L (I  cannot  tell  you  her  name), 

the  wife  of  my  master,  was  a  young,  beautiful  lady.  And 
she  fell  in  love  with  me. 

"  When  she  saw  me,  she  said :  '  Mr.  Mauer,  how  does 
your  mother  call  you  ? '     I  said  :  '  Karlchen.' 

"  And  she  said,  '  Karlchen,  sit  down  by  my  side ! ' 

"  I  sat  down  beside  her,  and  she  said  :  '  Karlchen,  kiss 
me ! ' 

"  I  kissed  her,  and  she  said :  *  Karlchen,  I  love  you  so 
much  that  I  can't  stand  it  any  longer,'  and  she  began  to 
tremble." 

Here  Karl  Ivanovich  made  a  protracted  pause  and, 
rolling  his  good  blue  eyes  and  lightly  shaking  his  head, 
smiled,  as  people  always  smile  under  the  influence  of 
agreeable  reminiscences. 

"  Yes,"  he  began  once  more,  fixing  himself  in  his  chair, 
and  wrapping  his  gown  about  him,  "  I  have  experienced 
many  good  and  bad  things  in  my  life,  but  here  is  my 
witness,"  he  said,  pointing  to  an  image  of  the  Saviour, 
embroidered  on  canvas,  which  hung  over  his  bed,  "  no- 
body can  say  that  Karl  Ivanovich  is  a  dishonest  man !  I 
did  not  wish  to  repay  by  black  ingratitude  the  good  which 

Mr.  L had  done  me,  and  I  decided  to  run  away.     In 

the  evening,  when  all  were  asleep,  I  wrote  a  letter  to  my 


CONTINUATIOIf  181 

master  which  I  placed  on  the  table  in  my  room ;  then  I 
took  my  clothes  and  three  thalers  of  money,  and  softly 
went  into  the  street.  Nobody  saw  me,  and  I  walked 
along  the  road." 


X. 

CONTINUATION 

"  I  HAD  not  seen  my  mother  for  nine  years,  and  I  did 
not  know  whether  she  was  alive,  or  whether  her  bones 
were  ah'eady  resting  in  the  damp  earth.  I  went  .to  my 
native  home.  When  I  came  to  the  town,  I  asked  where 
Gustav  Mauer  hved,  who  had  been  a  tenant  at  Count  von 
Sommerblatt's.  And  they  said  to  me  :  '  Count  von  Som- 
merblatt  has  died,  and  Gustav  Mauer  is  living  now  on  the 
wide  street,  and  keeping  a  store  for  liqueurs.''  I  put  on  my 
new  waistcoat,  a  good  coat,  —  a  present  from  the  manu- 
facturer, —  fixed  my  hair  nicely,  and  went  to  my  father's 
liquor  store.  Sister  Mariechen  was  sitting  there,  and 
asked  me  what  I  wanted.  I  said  :  '  May  I  drink  a  glass 
of  liqueur?'  and  she  said  :  '  Vater,  a  young  man  is  asking 
for  a  glass  of  liqueur.'  And  father  said  :  '  Give  the  young 
man  a  glass  of  liqueur  ! '  I  sat  down  at  the  table,  drank 
my  glass,  smoked  a  pipe,  and  looked  at  father,  at  Marie- 
chen, and  at  Johanu,  who  had  also  come  into  the  store. 
In  our  conversation  father  said  to  me :  '  You,  no  doubt, 
know  where  our  Armee  is  stationed  now  ! '  I  said :  '  1 
myself  have  come  from  the  Armee,  and  it  is  stationed  at 
Wien.'  '  Our  son,'  said  father,  '  was  a  Soldat,  and  now 
he  has  not  written  to  us  for  nine,  years,  and  we  do  not 
know  whether  he  is  alive  or  dead.  My  wife  always 
weeps  for  him.'  I  smoked  my  pipe  and  said  :  '  What  was 
the  name  of  your  son,  and  where  did  he  serve  ?  Maybe 
I  know  him.'     '  His  name  is  Karl  Mauer,  and  he  served 

182 


CONTINtJATlON  183 

with  the  Austrian  chasseurs,'  said  my  father.  '  He  is 
tall  and  a  fine-looking  man,  just  like  you,'  said  sister 
Mariechen.  I  said  :  '  I  know  your  Karl.'  '  Amalia  ! '  sagte 
auf  einmal  mein  Vater, '  come  here  !  Here  is  a  young  man 
who  knows  our  Karl.'  Ant  my  dear  moder  comes  cut 
from  the  back  door,  I  at  once  knew  her.  '  You  know 
our  Karl,'  and  she  looks  at  me,  and  is  all  pale  and 
trembles !  '  Yes,  I  have  seen  him,'  I  said,  and  did  not 
dare  to  raise  my  eyes  to  her :  my  heart  wanted  to  break. 
'  My  Karl  is  alive  ! '  said  mother.  '  The  Lord  be  thanked. 
Where  is  he,  my  dear  Karl  ?  I  could  die  in  peace,  if  I 
could  look  once  more  upon  him,  upon  my  beloved  son ; 
but  God  does  not  wish  it,'  and  she  burst  out  into  tears.  I 
could  not  stand  it  any  longer.  '  Mother ! '  I  said,  '  I  am 
your  Karl,'  and  she  fell  into  my  arms." 

Karl  Ivanovich  covered  his  eyes,  and  his  lips  trembled. 

" '  Mutter  ! '  sagte  ich,  '  ich  bin  ihr  Sohn,  ich  bin  ihr 
Karl ! '  unci  sie  stilrzte  viir  in  die  Arme"  he  repeated,  after 
quieting  down  and  wiping  off  the  tears  which  rolled  down 
his  cheeks. 

"  But  it  did  not  please  God  that  I  should  end  my  days 
in  my  native  country.  A  misfortune  was  decreed  for  me ! 
Das  Unglikk  verfolgte  mich  iiberall !  I  lived  in  my 
home  only  three  months.  One  Sunday  I  was  in  a  coffee- 
house, where  I  ordered  a  mug  of  beer,  smoked  my  pipe, 
and  chatted  with  my  acquaintances  about  Politik,  about 
Emperor  Franz,  about  Napoleon,  and  about  the  war,  and 
everybody  expressed  his  opinion.  Near  us  sat  a  strange 
gentleman  in  a  gray  Ueberrock,  who  drank  coffee,  smoked  a 
pipe,  and  did  not  speak  with  us.  Er  rauchte  sein  Pfeifchen 
und  shwieg  still.  When  the  Nachtivacliter  called  the 
tenth  hour,  I  took  my  hat,  paid  my  bill,  and  went  home. 
At  midnight  somebody  knocked  at  our  door.  I  awoke 
and  said:  'Who  is  there?'  '  Macht  auf!'  I  said:  'Say 
who  you  are,  and  I  will  open.'  Ich  sagte :  '  Sagt  wer  ihr 
seid,  und  ich  werde  aufrnachen!     '  Macht  auf  im  Namen 


184  BOYHOOD 

des  Gesetzes!'  somebody  said  at  the  door,  I  opened. 
Two  Soldat  with  guns  stood  at  the  door,  and  into  the 
room  entered  the  strange  man  in  the  gray  Ueherrock,  who 
had  been  sitting  near  us  in  the  coffee-house.  He  was  a 
spy  !  Es  war  ein  Spion  !  '  Come  with  me ! '  said  the 
spy.  '  All  right ! '  said  I.  I  put  on  my  boots  and  panta- 
loons, and  my  suspenders,  and  walked  up  and  down  the 
room.  My  blood  boiled.  I  said  to  myself,  he  was  a 
scoundrel.  When  I  walked  up  to  the  wall  where  my 
sword  was  hanging,  1  grabbed  it  suddenly  and  said : 
'You  are  a  spy,  defend  yourself!'  'Bit  hist  ein  Spion, 
vertheidige  dich  ! '  Ith  gah  einen  Hieh  to  the  right,  einen 
Hieb  to  the  left,  and  one  upon  his  head.  The  spy 
fell !  I  seized  my  portmanteau  and  money,  and  jumped 
out  of  the  window.  Ich  nahm  meinen  Mantelsack  UTid 
Beiitel  and  sprang  zum  Fenster  hinaiis.  Ich  kam  nach 
Ems.  There  I  became  acquainted  with  General  Zazin. 
He  took  a  fancy  to  me,  got  a  passport  for  me  from 
the  ambassador,  and  took  me  with  him  to  Russia  to 
teach  his  children.  When  General  Zazin  died,  your 
mother  employed  me.  She  said :  '  Karl  Ivauovich !  I 
give  my  children  to  you,  and  I  shall  never  abandon  you ; 
1  shall  assure  you  an  easy  old  age.'  Now  she. is  no  more, 
and  everything  is  forgotten.  In  return  for  the  twenty 
years  of  my  service  I  have  to  go  now  into  the  street,  old 
as  I  am,  to  find  a  crust  of  dry  bread.  Got  sees  dat,  and 
knows  dat,  and  for  dat  is  His  holy  will  —  only  I  am 
scrry  for  you,  my  childers  !  "  couclud>3d  Karl  Ivauovich, 
drawing  me  to  him  and  kissing  my  head. 


I 


XI. 

ONE^ 

After  a  year's  mourning,  grandmother  had  a  little 
recovered  from  the  grief  which  had  struck  her  down,  and 
she  began  now  and  then  to  receive  guests,  especially  girls 
and  boys  who  were  of  our  age. 

On  the  13th  of  December,  Lyiibochka's  birthday, 
there  came  even  before  dinner  Princess  Kornakov  with 
her  daughters,  Madame  Valakhin  with  Sonichka,  Ilinka 
Grap,  and  the  two  younger  brothers  of  the  Ivins. 

The  sound  of  conversation,  laughter,  and  running  about 
reached  us  from  below,  where  the  whole  company  had 
gathered,  but  we  could  not  join  them  before  the  end  of 
the  morning  classes.  On  the  schedule  which  hung  in  the 
class-room  it  said :  Lundi,  de  ^  h  3,  maitre  d'histoire  ct  de 
geographie ;  and  it  was  this  maitre  d'histoire  whom  we 
had  to  wait  for,  listen  to,  and  see  off,  before  we  could  be 
free.  It  was  already  twenty  minutes  past  two,  but  the 
teacher  of  history  had  not  yet  arrived,  nor  could  he  be 
heard  or  seen  in  the  street,  over  which  he  had  to  pass  to 
reach  us,  and  upon  which  I  was  looking  with  a  strong 
desire  not  to  see  him. 

"  Apparently  L^bedev  is  not  coming  to-day,"  said  Volo- 
dya,  raising  his  eyes  for  a  moment  from  Smaragdov's  text- 
book, from  which  he  was  preparing  his  lesson. 

"  May  the  Lord  grant  it  be  so,  for  I  do  not  know  a  thing 

'  One  is  the  lowest,  and  five  the  highest  mark  iu  Russian  schools, 

185 


186  BOYHOOD 

about  the  lesson  —  However,  however,  here  he  comes," 
I  added,  in  a  sad  voice. 

Volodya  rose  from  his  seat  and  went  up  to  the 
window. 

"  No,  that  is  not  he,  that  is  some  gentleman,"  said  he. 
"  We  shall  wait  until  half-past  two,"  he  added,  stretching 
himself  and  at  the  same  time  scratching  his  crown,  as  he 
was  in  the  habit  of  doing  whenever  he  rested  for  a  minute 
from  his  work.  "  If  he  is  not  here  by  half-past  two,  we 
shall  tell  St.  J(^r6me  to  pick  up  the  copy-books." 

"  What  does  he  want  to  be  coming  for  ? "  I  said,  also 
stretching  myself  and  shaking  over  my  head  the  book  of 
Kaydanov,  which  I  held  in  both  my  hands. 

Having  nothing  to  do,  I  opened  the  book  where  the 
lesson  was,  and  began  to  read  it.  It  was  a  long  and  hard 
lesson ;  I  did  not  know  a  thing  about  it,  and  I  saw  that  I 
should  never  have  enough  time  to  learn  a  thing,  especially 
since  I  was  in  that  nervous  condition  when  the  thoughts 
refuse  to  centre  on  any  subject  whatsoever. 

L(5bedev  had  complained  about  me  to  St.  Jerome  for  my 
previous  lesson  in  history,  a  subject  which  had  always 
seemed  to  me  tiresome  and  hard,  and  he  had  written  down 
in  the  book  in  which  the  marks  were  kept,  number  two, 
which  was  regarded  as  very  bad.  St.  Jerome  told  me 
then,  that  if  I  should  get  less  than  three  at  the  next  les- 
son, I  should  be  punished  severely.  This  next  lesson  was 
before  me  and,  I  confess,  I  trembled. 

I  had  been  so  absorbed  in  the  reading  of  the  unfamiliar 
lesson  that  I  was  startled  by  the  noise  of  taking  off  over- 
shoes, which  was  heard  in  the  antechamber.  I  had  not 
had  any  time  to  look  around,  when  in  the  door  appeared 
the  pockmarked,  despised  face  and  the  familiar,  awkward 
figure  of  the  teacher,  in  his  buttoned  blue  dress  coat  with 
the  buttons  of  the  learned  profession. 

The  teacher  slowly  put  his  hat  on  the  window,  and  his 
note-books  on  the  table,  with  both  his  hands  spread  the 


ONE  1»Y 

folds  of  his  coat,  as  though  this  was  absolutely  necessary, 
and,  puffing,  sat  down  in  his  chair. 

"  Well,  gentlemen,"  he  said,  rubbing  his  clammy  hands 
against  each  other,  "  first  we  shall  go  over  what  was  said 
in  the  previous  lesson,  and  then  I  shall  try  to  acquaint 
you  with  the  next  events  of  the  Middle  Ages." 

This  meant :  Eecite  your  lesson. 

While  Volodya  answered  him  with  a  freedom  and  self- 
assurance  peculiar  to  those  who  know  their  subject  well, 
I,  without  any  aim  whatsoever,  went  out  on  the  staircase, 
and,  since  it  was  not  possible  to  go  down-stairs,  I  quite 
naturally  walked  up  to  the  landing.  I  had  just  intended 
to  settle  in  my  usual  place  of  observation,  when  Mimi, 
who  always  was  the  cause  of  my  misfortunes,  suddenly 
bumped  against  me.  "  You  are  here  ?  "  she  said,  looking 
threateningly  at  me,  then  at  the  door  of  the  maids'  room, 
and  then  again  at  me. 

I  felt  myself  thoroughly  guilty,  both  because  I  was  not 
at  the  lesson,  and  because  I  found  myself  in  such  an  im- 
proper place,  so  I  kept  silent  and,  lowering  my  head,  pre- 
sented a  most  pathetic  picture  of  repentance. 

"  No,  that  passes  all  bounds  ! "  said  Mimi.  "  What 
were  you  doing  here  ? "  I  kept  silent.  "  No,  that  can't 
remain  this  way  ! "  she  repeated,  striking  the  knuckles  of 
her  fingers  against  the  balustrade  of  the  staircase,  "  I  shall 
tell  everything  to  the  countess." 

It  was  five  minutes  to  three,  when  I  returned  to  the 
schoolroom.  The  teacher,  acting  as  though  he  had  not 
noticed  my  absence  nor  my  presence,  was  explaining  the 
next  lesson  to  Volodya.  When,  after  having  finished  his 
explanations,  he  began  to  fold  up  his  note-books,  and  Vol(5- 
dya  went  into  the  other  room  to  bring  him  his  ticket,  the 
joyful  thought  struck  me  that  it  was  all  over,  and  that  I 
was  forgotten. 

But  suddenly  the  teacher  turned  to  me  with  a  mischie- 
vous half-smile. 


188  BOYHOOD 

"  I  hope  that  you  have  learned  your  lesson,  sir,"  he  said, 
rubbing  his  hands. 

"  I  have,  sir,"  I  answered. 

"  Will  you  take  the  trouble  to  tell  me  something  about 
the  crusade  of  St.  Louis  ? "  he  said,  swaying  in  his  chair, 
and  pensively  looking  between  his  legs.  "  You  will  first 
tell  me  about  the  reason  which  caused  the  French  king  to 
take  up  the  cross,"  he  said,  raising  his  eyebrows  and  point- 
ing his  finger  to  the  inkstand,  "  then  explain  to  me  the 
general  characteristic  features  of  that  crusade,"  he  added, 
moving  his  whole  wrist  as  if  he  wanted  to  catch  some- 
thing, "  and  finally,  the  effect  of  that  crusade  upon  the 
European  countries  in  general,"  he  said,  striking  the  left 
part  of  the  table  with  his  note-books,  "  upon  the  French 
realm  in  particular,"  he  concluded,  striking  the  right  side 
of  the  table,  and  bending  his  head  to  the  right. 

I  swallowed  several  times,  hennned  and  hawed,  bent 
my  head  to  one  side,  and  kept  silent.  Then  I  picked  up 
a  goose-quill  which  was  lying  on  the  table,  and  began  to 
tear  it  to  pieces,  but  I  kept  silent  all  the  time. 

"  Let  me  have  the  pen,"  said  the  teacher  to  me,  stretch- 
ing out  his  hand.     "  It  could  be  used  yet.     Well,  sir  ? " 

"  Louis  —  Kar  —  Louis  the  Holy  was  —  was  —  was  — 
a  good  and  wise  Tsar  —  " 

"  What,  sir  ? " 

"  Tsar.  He  had  got  it  into  his  head  to  go  to  Jeru- 
salem, and  he  transferred  the  reins  of  government  to  his 
mother." 

"  What  was  her  name  ? " 

"  B  —  b  —  lanka." 

"  What  ?     Bulanka  ?  "  i 

I  smiled  a  sinister  and  awkward  smile. 

"  Well,  sir,  is  there  anything  else  you  know  ? "  he  said, 
smiling. 

I  had  nothing  to  lose,  so  I  coughed  and  began  to  tell 
1  Name  of  a  dun  horse 


ONE  189 

anything  that  occurred  to  me.  The  teacher  did  not 
say  anything,  and  only  swept  off  the  dust  from  the  table 
with  the  pen  which  he  had  taken  away  from  me ;  he 
stared  somewhere  beyond  my  ear,  and  now  and  then 
exclaimed  :  "  Very  well,  sir,  very  well,  sir."  I  felt  that  I 
did  not  know  a  thing,  that  I  did  not  express  myself  as 
I  ought  to,  and  I  was  very  much  pained  because  my 
teacher  did  not  stop  me,  or  correct  me. 

"I Why  did  he  get  it  into  his  head  to  go  to  Jerusalem  ? " 
said  the  teacher,  repeating  my  own  words. 

"  Because  —  on  account  of  —  since  —  in  as  much 
as  —  " 

I  was  completely  floored,  did  not  say  another  word,  and 
felt  that  if  that  rascal  of  a  teacher  were  to  be  silent  for  a 
whole  year  and  looking  interrogatively  at  me  all  the 
time,  I  should  not  be  able  to  utter  another  sound.  The 
teacher  looked  at  me  for  about  three  minutes,  then  his 
face  suddenly  manifested  an  expression  of  profound  grief, 
and,  in  a  pathetic  voice,  he  said  to  Volodya  who  had  just 
entered  the  room : 

"  Please  let  me  have  the  book  for  the  marks  ! " 

Volddya  gave  him  the  book,  and  gently  placed  a  ticket 
near  it. 

The  teacher  opened  the  book  and,  carefully  dipping  the 
pen,  in  a  beautiful  hand  marked  Volodya  number  five  in 
the  columns  for  progress  and  deportment.  Then,  resting 
the  pen  over  the  Hne  where  my  marks  were  to  be  put 
down,  he  glanced  at  me,  shook  off  the  ink,  and  thought 
awhile. 

Suddenly  his  hand  made  a  scarcely  perceptible  motion, 
and  in  the  column  appeared  a  beautifully  written  number 
one,  with  a  period  after  it ;  another  motion,  and  in  the 
column  for  deportment  went  down  another  number  one, 
with  a  period  after  it. 

Carefully  folding  the  book  with  the  marks,  the  teacher 
rose  and  walked  to  the  door,  as  though  he  had  not  noticed 


190  BOYHOOD 

my  glance,  in  which  were  expressed  despair,  supplication, 
and  reproach. 

"  Mikhail  Lariouovich  ! "  said  I. 

"  No,"  he  answered,  guessing  what  I  intended  to  tell 
him,  "  you  can't  study  that  way.  I  will  not  take  money 
for  nothing." 

The  teacher  put  on  his  overshoes  and  camlet  overcoat, 
and  carefully  wrapped  himself  in  a  shawl.  As  if  one 
could  think  of  anything,  after  what  had  happened  to  me ! 
For  him  it  was  but  a  movement  of  the  pen,  but  for  me 
it  was  my  greatest  misfortune. 

"  Is  the  lesson  over  ? "  asked  St.  Jerome,  as  he  entered 
the  room. 

"  Yes." 

"  Was  the  teacher  satisfied  with  you  ? " 

"  Yes,"  said  Volodya. 

"  What  did  you  get  ? " 

"  Five." 

"  And  Nicolas  ?  " 

I  was  silent. 

"  I  think,  four,"  said  Volodya. 

He  knew  I  had  to  be  saved,  if  only  for  to-day.  Let 
them  punish  me,  as  long  as  it  was  not  to-day,  when  guests 
were  at  the  house. 

"  Voyons,  messieurs  !  "  (St.  Jerome  was  in  the  habit  of 
saying  voyons !  to  everything.)  "  Faites  voire  toilette  et 
descendons  !  " 


XII. 

THE    SMALL    KEY 

We  had  barely  greeted  the  guests,  upon  coming  down- 
stairs, when  we  were  called  to  table.  Papa  was  in  a  very 
happy  frame  of  mind  (he  had  been  winning  of  late)  ;  he 
had  presented  Lyubochka  with  a  costly  silver  tea  service, 
and  at  dinner  he  remembered  that  he  had  left  a  bonbon- 
nihre  for  her  in  his  room  in  the  wing. 

"  What  is  the  use  sending  a  servant  there  ?  You  had 
better  go  there  yourself,  Koko ! "  he  said  to  me.  "  The 
keys  are  in  the  shell  on  the  large  table,  you  know.  So 
take  them,  and  with  the  largest  key  open  the  second 
drawer  at  the  right.  There  you  will  find  the  candy  box. 
The  candy  is  in  paper  ;  bring  it  here  ! " 

"  And  shall  I  bring  you  any  cigars  ? "  I  asked,  knowing 
that  he  always  sent  for  them  after  dinner. 

"  Bring  some,  only  don't  touch  anything ;  you  hear  ? " 
he  said,  as  I  went  out. 

I  found  the  keys  in  the  place  indicated,  and  was  on  the 
point  of  opening  the  drawer,  when  I  was  arrested  by 
the  desire  of  finding  out  what  thing  the  tiny  key  of  the 
bunch  could  open. 

On  the  table  stood,  against  a  small  railing,  among  a 
thousand  different  things,  a  hand-sewn  portfolio  with 
a  padlock,  and  I  was  dying  to  find  out  whether  the  small 
key  would  fit  in  it.  My  effort  was  rewarded  with  com- 
plete success,  the  portfolio  was  opened,  and  inside  I  found 
a  whole  stack  of  papers.     My  feehng  of  curiosity  so  per- 

191 


192  BOYHOOD 

suasively  compelled  me  to  find  out  what  kind  of  papers 
they  were,  that  I  was  not  able  to  listen  to  the  voice  of  my 
conscience,  and  began  to  examine  what  was  in  the  portfolio. 

The  childish  feeling  of  unconditional  respect  for  older 
people,  especially  for  papa,  was  so  strong  in  me,  that  my 
mind  unconsciously  refused  to  draw  any  conclusions  from 
what  I  saw.  I  felt  that  papa  was  living  in  an  entirely 
separate,  beautiful,  inapproachable,  and  incomprehensible 
sphere,  and  that  it  would  be  a  kind  of  sacrilege  for  me  to 
try  to  penetrate  the  secrets  of  his  life. 

For  this  reason  the  discoveries  which  I  had  made, 
almost  by  accident,  in  papa's  portfolio  did  not  leave  any 
clear  idea  with  me,  except  a  dim  consciousness  of  having 
done  something  bad.     I  felt  ashamed  and  ill  at  ease. 

Under  the  influence  of  this  feeling  I  wanted  to  close 
the  portfolio  as  quickly  as  possible,  but  I  was  evidently 
fated  to  experience  all  kinds  of  misfortunes  upon  that 
raemorable  day.  When  I  put  the  key  into  the  keyhole,  I 
turned  it  in  the  wrong  direction.  Thinking  that  the 
padlock  was  locked,  I  pulled  the  key  out,  and,  oh,  horror ! 
only  the  head  of  the  key  was  left  in  my  hands.  I  tried 
in  vain  to  connect  it  with  the  half  which  was  left  in  the 
keyhole,  and  by  some  magic  to  extricate  it.  At  last  I 
had  to  get  used  to  the  terrible  thought  that  I  had 
committed  a  new  crime,  which  would  be  discovered  that 
very  day,  upon  papa's  return  to  his  cabinet. 

Mimi's  complaint,  number  one,  and  the  key  !  Nothing 
v'orse  could  have  happened  to  me.  Grandmother  —  for 
Mimi's  complaint,  St.  JerSme  —  for  number  one,  and 
papa  —  for  the  key,  —  all  that  would  overwhelm  me  not 
later  than  that  very  evening. 

"  What  will  become  of  me  ?  Oh,  what  have  I  done  !  " 
T  said  aloud,  as  I  walked  across  the  soft  carpet  of  the 
cabinet.  "  Oh,  well ! "  I  said  to  myself,  getting  the  con- 
fectionary and  the  cigars,  "  there  is  no  escaping  fate,"  and 
I  ran  to  the  house. 


THE    SMALL    KEY  193 

That  fatalistic  expressiou,  whicli  I  had  caught  from 
Nikoldy  in  my  childhood,  had  produced  upon  me,  in  all 
the  heavy  moments  of  my  life,  a  beneficent,  temporarily 
soothing  effect.  When  I  entered  the  parlour,  I  was  in  a 
somewhat  nervous  and  unnatural,  but  exceedingly  happy 
frame  of  mind. 


xin. 

THE   TRAITRESS 

After  dinner  began  the  petits  jeux,  and  I  took  a  very 
lively  part  in  them.  As  we  were  playing  "  Cat-and- 
mouse,"  I  awkwardly  ran  against  the  governess  of  the 
Korndkovs,  and,  accidentally  stepping  on  her  skirt,  tore 
it.  When  I  noticed  that  all  the  girls,  but  particularly 
Sonichka,  took  great  delight  in  seeing  the  governess  put 
out  about  it,  and  going  to  the  maids'  room  to  fix  her 
dress,  1  decided  I  would  afford  theni  that  pleasure  once 
more.  In  consequence  of  this  amiable  intention,  I  began 
to  gallop  around  the  governess,  the  moment  she  returned 
to  the  room,  and  continued  these  evolutions  until  I  found 
a  favourable  opportunity  of  catching  my  heel  in  her  skirt, 
and  tearing  it.  Sonichka  and  the  princesses  could  hardly 
hold  themselves  with  laughing,  which  very  agreeably 
flattered  my  egoism,  but  St.  Jerome,  who  had  evidently 
noticed  my  tricks,  said  that  I  was  too  merry  for  any  good, 
and  that  if  I  would  not  behave  better,  he  would  make  me 
feel  sorry,  in  spite  of  the  celebration. 

I  was  in  the  irritated  condition  of  a  man  who  has  lost 
more  than  he  has  in  his  pocket,  who  is  afraid  to  look  up 
his  standing,  and  proceeds  to  play  desperately,  without 
any  hope  of  winning  back,  but  only  in  order  not  to  give 
himself  any  time  to  come  to  his  senses.  I  smiled  inso- 
lently and  walked  away  from  him. 

After  the  "  cat-and-moi^se,"  somebody  started  a  game 

194 


I 


THE    TRAITRESS  l95 

which,  I  think,  is  called  "  Lange  Nase  "  with  us.  The 
game  consisted  in  placing  two  rows  of  chairs  facing  each 
other,  and  dividing  the  ladies  and  gentlemen  into  two 
parties,  and  having  each  chosen  from  the  other  by 
alternation. 

The  younger  princess  chose  every  time  the  younger 
Ivin,  Katenka  chose  Volodya  or  Ilinka,  and  Sonichka  — 
every  time  Ser^zha,  and  she  was,  to  my  great  amazement, 
not  in  the  least  ashamed  when  Ser<5zha  went  and  seated 
himself  right  opposite  her.  She  laughed  her  sweet,  melo- 
dious laugh  and  nodded  her  head  to  Lim  in  token  that  he 
had  guessed  correctly.  Nobody  chose  me.  This  greatly 
offended  my  vanity,  and  I  understood  that  I  was  super- 
fluous, one  who  is  left  over,  and  that  they  had  to  say  of 
me  every  time :  "  Who  is  left  over  ?  Yes,  Nikolenka. 
So  you  take  him  ! "  So  that  whenever  I  was  out,  1  went 
up  straight  to  sister,  or  to  one  of  the  homely  princesses, 
and,  to  my  misfortune,  I  never  made  a  mistake.  So- 
nichka, however,  seemed  to  be  so  occupied  with  Ser^zha 
Ivin,  that  I  did  not  exist  for  her  at  all.  I  do  not  know 
on  what  ground  I  mentally  called  her  "  traitress,"  for  she 
had  never  given  me  a  promise  that  she  would  choose  me, 
and  not  Ser^zha ;  but  I  was  firmly  convinced  that  she 
acted  in  a  most  shameful  manner  toward  me. 

After  the  game  I  noticed  that  the  "  traitress,"  whom  I 
despised,  but  from  whom  I  nevertheless  could  not  keep 
my  eyes,  had  gone  into  the  corner  with  Ser^zha  and 
Katenka,  and  that  they  were  talking  mysteriously  about 
something.  I  stole  behind  the  piano,  in  order  to  discover 
their  secrets,  and  I  saw  this :  Katenka  was  holding  a 
batiste  handkerchief  at  two  of  its  ends,  so  that  it  served 
for  a  screen  and  concealed  Ser^zha's  and  Souichka's  heads. 
"  No,  you  have  lost,  so  pay  your  fine ! "  said  Ser^zha. 
Sonichka  dropped  her  hands,  stood  before  him  like  a 
guilty  person,  and  said,  blushing  :  "  No,  I  have  not  lost ! 
Am  I   not  right.    Mademoiselle  Catherine  ? "      "I  love 


196  BOYHOOD 

truth,"  answered  Katenka,  "  you  have  lost  the  wager,  ma 
chere  !  " 

No  sooner  had  Katenka  pronounced  these  words  than 
Ser(^zha  leaned  over  and  kissed  Sonichka.  He  just  kissed 
her  rosy  lips.  And  Sonichka  laughed  as  if  that  were  all 
right,  as  if  it  were  a  very  jolly  thing.  Terrible !  0 
tricky  traitress ! 


I 


XIV. 

THE    ECLIPSE 

I  SUDDENLY  felt  a  contempt  for  the  whole  feminine 
sex  in  general  and  for  Sonichka  in  particular.  I  began  to 
persuade  myself  that  there  was  no  fun  in  those  games, 
and  that  they  were  good  enough  only  for  httle  girls,  and 
I  Was  dying  to  do  some  daring  act  and  show  such  a  bit  of 
bravado  as  to  make  them  wonder  at  me.  The  oppor- 
tunity presented  itself  in  due  time. 

St,  J^rSme  had  a  talk  with  Mimi  about  something,  then 
he  left  the  room.  The  sound  of  his  steps  was  heard 
at  first  upon  the  staircase,  then  above  us,  in  the  class- 
room, it  occurred  to  me  that  Mimi  had  told  him  where 
she  had  seen  me  during  class  hours,  and  that  he  had 
gone  to  look  at  the  class  book.  At  that  time  I  could  not 
suppose  any  other  aim  in  St.  Jerome's  life  than  the  desire 
to  punish  me.  I  have  read  somewhere  that  children 
between  twelve  and  fourteen  years  of  age,  that  is,  those 
who  are  in  the  transitional  stage  of  boyhood,  have  a 
particular  mania  for  arson  and  murder.  As  I  think  of 
my  own  boyhood  and,  in  particular,  of  the  state  of 
my  mind  on  that  fatal  day,  I  very  clearly  comprehend 
the  possibility  of  an  aimless  crime,  without  any  desire  of 
doing  harm,  but  just  out  of  curiosity  and  out  of  an 
unconscious  need  of  some  activity.  There  are  minutes 
when  the  future  presents  itself  to  a  man  in  so  sombre 
a  light  that  he  is  afraid  to  rest  his  mental  vision  upon  it, 
completely  interrupts  his  mind's  activity,  and  endeavours 

197 


198  BOYHOOD 

to  persuade  himself  that  there  will  be  no  future  and  that 
there  has  been  no  past.  In  such  minutes,  when  the  mind 
does  not  judge  in  advance  the  determinations  of  the  will, 
and  carnal  instincts  are  the  only  mainsprings  of  life  that 
are  left,  a  child  without  any  experience,  and  predisposed 
to  such  a  condition,  naturally,  without  the  least  hesitation 
or  fear,  and  with  a  smile  of  curiosity,  starts  up  and  fans  a 
fire  under  his  own  house,  where  his  brothers  and  his 
parents  sleep,  whom  he  loves  tenderly.  Under  the  in- 
fluence of  this  same  momentary  absence  of  reasoning 
power,  —  almost  under  the  influence  of  distraction,  —  a 
peasant  lad  of  seventeen  years  of  age,  who  is  examining 
the  edge  of  a  newly  ground  axe  near  the  bench  on  which 
his  old  father  is  sleeping  face  downward,  suddenly  swings 
his  axe,  and  with  dull  curiosity  looks  at  the  blood  gush- 
ing under  the  bench  from  the  severed  neck.  Under  the 
influence  of  the  same  absence  of  thought  and  of  an 
instinctive  curiosity  a  man  finds  a  certain  pleasure  in 
stopping  on  the  very  brink  of  a  precipice,  and  in  think- 
ing :  "  What  if  I  jumped  down  there  ?  "  or  in  placing  a 
loaded  pistol  to  his  forehead,  and  in  thinking:  "What  if 
I  pressed  the  trigger  ? "  or  in  looking  at  some  distin- 
guished person,  for  whom  all  society  has  the  profoundest 
respect,  and  in  thinking :  "  What  if  I  went  up  to  him 
and  took  him  by  the  nose,  and  said :  '  Now,  my  dear  sir, 
come  along  with  me  ! '  " 

When  St.  Jerome  came  down-stai.'s  and  told  me  that 
I  had  no  right  to  be  here  to-day,  because  I  had  behaved 
and  studied  so  badly,  and  that  I  should  go  up-stairs  at 
once,  I,  under  the  influence  of  just  such  an  inward  agita- 
tion and  absence  of  reasoning,  showed  him  my  tongue, 
and  told  him  that  I   would  not  go. 

At  first  St.  Jerome  could  not  pronounce  a  word  from 
amazement  and  anger. 

"  Cest  Men"  he  said  to  me,  as  he  caught  up  with  me, 
"  I   have   more   than   once  promised  you  a  punishment, 


I 


THE    ECLIPSE  199 

from  which  your  graucl mother  has  been  trying  to  save 
you.  Now  I  see  that  nothing  but  the  rod  will  make  you 
obey,  and  to-day  you  have  well  deserved  it." 

He  said  that  so  loudly  that  all  heard  his  words.  My 
blood  rushed  with  unusual  vehemence  to  my  heart. 
I  felt  it  pulsatiug  terribly,  and  pallor  covermg  my  face, 
and  my  lips  quivering  entirely  against  my  will.  I  must 
have  been  terrible  at  that  moment,  because  St.  Jerome 
avoided  my  look  as  he  walked  up  to  me  and  took  me 
by  my  arm ;  but  at  the  touch  of  his  hand,  I  felt  so  badly 
that,  forgetting  myself  in  my  anger,  I  drew  my  arm  away 
from  him  and  with  all  my  boyish  strength  dealt  him  a  blow. 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  you  ? "  said  Volddya,  approach- 
ing me,  when  he,  in  terror  and  amazement,  saw  my  deed. 

"  Leave  me  alone ! "  I  cried  out  to  him  through  my 
tears.  "  You  none  of  you  love  me,  and  you  do  not 
understand  how  unhappy  I  am !  You  are  all  mean 
and  despicable ! "  I  added,  in  a  kind  of  stupor,  turning 
to  all  the  company  assembled. 

Just  then  St.  Jerome  again  walked  up  to  me,  with 
a  determined  and  pale  countenance,  and,  Ijefore  I  had 
any  time  to  prepare  myself  for  the  defence,  with  a  quick 
motion  compressed  both  my  arms,  as  in  a  vise,  and  pulled 
me  away  to  some  place.  My  head  was  dizzy  from 
excitement.  I  remember  only  that  I  fought  desperately 
with  my  head  and  knees  as  long  as  I  had  any  strength 
left ;  I  remember  that  my  nose  several  times  struck 
against  somebody's  thighs,  that  somebody's  coat  kept  on 
getting  into  my  mouth,  and  that  all  about  me  I  heard 
the  presence  of  somebody's  feet,  and  smelled  the  smell 
of  dust  and  of  violets,  with  which  St.  Jerome  used  to 
perfume  himself. 

Five  minutes  later  the  door  of  the  lumber-room  was 
closed  after  me. 

"  Vasili !  "  he  said  in  a  contemptuous,  triumphant  voice, 
"  bring  some  rods  ! " 


XV. 

DREAMS 

Could  I  have  thought  at  that  time  that  I  should 
remain  ahve,  after  the  many  misfortunes  which  had 
hefallen  me,  and  that  the  time  would  come  when  I 
should  think  calmly  of  them  ? 

As  I  considered  what  I  had  done,  I  was  unable  to 
imagine  what  would  become  of  me,  but  I  had  a  dim  pre- 
sentiment that  I  was  irretrievably  lost. 

At  first,  complete  silence  reigned  below  me  and  about 
me,  or  at  least  it  so  appeared  to  me  from  too  great  an 
inward  agitation.  By  degrees  I  began  to  distinguish 
different  sounds.  Vasili  came  up-stairs  and,  throwing 
something  that  resembled  a  broom  on  the  window,  lay 
doAVTi  on  the  clothes-bench,  yawning.  Below  me  was  heard 
the  loud  voice  of  Avgiist  Antonych  (he,  no  doubt,  was 
speaking  about  me),  then  some  children's  voices,  then 
laughter  and  running,  and  a  few  minutes  later  everything 
in  the  house  was  moving  as  before,  as  if  no  one  knew  or 
cared  to  know  that  I  was  sitting  in  u  dark  lumber-room. 

I  was  not  crying,  but  something  heavy,  like  a  stone, 
lay  upon  my  heart.  Thoughts  and  pictures  passed  through 
my  disturbed  imagination  with  increased  rapidity ;  but 
the  recollection  of  the  misfortune  which  had  befallen  me 
continually  interrupted  their  fanciful  chain,  and  I  again 
entered  into  an  inextricable  labyrinth  of  uncertainty  as 
to  my  impending  fate,  of  despair,  and  of  terror. 

Then  it  occurred  to  me  that  there  must  have  existed 
200 


DREAMS  201 

a  certain  unknown  reason  for  the  universal  hostility  and 
hatred  manifested  toward  me.  (I  was  firmly  convinced 
that  all,  beginning  with  grandmother  and  ending  with 
coachman  Filipp,  hated  me  and  found  pleasure  in  my 
sufferings.)  "  It  must  be,  I  am  not  the  son  of  my  mother 
and  of  my  father,  not  A'olodya's  brother,  but  some  unfor- 
tunate orphan,  a  foundling,  picked  up  for  charity's  sake,'' 
I  said  to  myself,  and  that  absurd  idea  not  only  afforded 
me  some  sad  consolation,  but  appeared  quite  probable 
to  me.  It  was  a  relief  for  me  to  think  that  I  was 
unhappy,  not  because  I  was  guilty,  but  because  that  had 
been  my  fate  since  my  very  birth,  and  because  my  fate 
resembled  that  of  unfortunate  Karl  Ivauovich. 

"  But  why  should  this  secret  be  concealed  any  longer, 
since  I  myself  have  discovered  it  ? "  I  said  to  myself.  "  I 
will  go  to-morrow  to  papa,  and  will  say  to  him  :  '  Papa,  you 
are  in  vain  concealing  the  secret  of  my  birth  from  me ; 
I  know  it.'  He  will  say  to  me :  '  What  is  to  be  done, 
my  dear  ?  Sooner  or  later  you  would  have  found  it 
out,  —  you  are  not  my  son,  but  I  have  adopted  you,  and 
if  you  will  be  worthy  of  my  love,  I  shall  never  abandon 
you.'  And  I  will  tell  him :  '  Papa,  although  I  have  no 
right  to  call  you  by  this  name,  I  now  pronounce  it  for 
the  last  time.  I  have  always  loved  you,  and  always 
shall.  I  shall  never  forget  that  you  are  my  benefactor, 
but  I  no  longer  can  remain  in  your  house.  Here  nobody 
loves  me,  and  St.  Jerome  has  vowed  to  destroy  me. 
Either  he  or  I  must  leave  your  house,  because  I  am  not 
responsible  for  my  acts,  —  I  so  hate  that  man  that  I  am 
capable  of  doing  anything.  I  will  kill  him,  that's  it  pre- 
cisely, I  will  kill  him.'  Papa  will  begin  to  reason  with 
me,  but  I  shall  only  wave  my  hand,  and  shall  tell  him : 
'  No,  my  friend  and  benefactor,  we  cannot  live  together, 
so  let  me  go  ! '  And  I  shall  embrace  him,  and  shall  tell 
him,  for  some  reason  in  French :  '  Oh,  mon  fere,  oh,  mon 
hienfaiteur,  donne-moi  iDour  la  demiere  fois  ta  benediction, 


202  BOYHOOD 

et  que  la  volonte  de  Dieu  soit  faite  ! '  "  At  this  thought 
I  burst  out  into  loud  tears,  as  I  sat  on  a  box  in  the  dark 
lumber-room.  Suddenly  I  thought  of  the  degrading  pun- 
ishment which  awaited  me,  and  the  actual  facts  presented 
themselves  in  their  real  light  to  me,  and  my  dreams  were 
dispersed  immediately. 

Now  I  imagined  I  was  already  at  liberty,  out  of  our 
house.  I  joined  the  hussars,  and  went  to  war.  Enemies 
bore  down  upon  me  from  all  sides,  I  brandished  my 
sword  and  killed  one ;  another  brandish,  and  I  killed  a 
second,  a  third.  At  last,  I  fell  to  the  ground,  exhausted 
from  wounds  and  fatigue,  and  cried,  "  Victory ! "  A 
general  rode  up  to  me  and  asked :  "  Where  is  he,  our 
saviour  ?  "  They  pointed  to  me,  and  he  rushed  to  embrace 
me,  and  with  tears  of  joy  cried  out,  "  Victory  ! "  I  grew 
well  again,  and,  with  my  arm  in  a  black  sling,  walked 
down  the  Tver  Boulevard.  I  was  a  general !  and  the  Tsar 
met  me  and  asked  :  "  Who  is  that  wounded  young  man  ?  " 
He  was  told  that  it  was  the  famous  hero,  Mkolay.  The 
Tsar  walked  up  to  me  and  said :  "  I  thank  you.  I  shall 
do  anything  you  may  ask  of  me."  I  made  a  respectful 
bow,  leaning  upon  my  sword,  and  said :  "  I  am  happy, 
great  Tsar,  that  I  was  able  to  shed  my  blood  for  my 
country,  and  I  should  like  to  die  for  it ;  but  since  you 
are  so  gracious  as  to  permit  me  to  ask  something  of 
you,  I  ask  only  this:  permit  me  to  destroy  my  enemy, 
the  foreigner  St.  Jerome.  I  want  to  destroy  my  en- 
emy, St.  Jerome."  I  angrily  stopped  in  front  of  St. 
Jerome,  and  said  to  him :  "  You  have  caused  my  mis- 
fortune, ct  genoux  ! "  Suddenly  it  occurred  to  me  that 
the  real  St.  Jerome  might  come  in  any  minute  with  the 
rods,  and  I  again  saw  myself,  not  as  a  general  who  had 
saved  his  country,  but  as  a  most  wretched  and  pitiful 
creature. 

Then  again  I  thought  of  God,  and  I  boldly  asked  Him, 
for  what  He  was  punishing  me.     "  I  think  I  have  never 


1 


DREAMS  203 

forgotten  to  say  my  prayers,  neither  in  the  morning  nor 
in  the  evening ;  then,  what  am  I  suffering  for  ? "  I  can 
absolutely  affirm  that  my  first  step  in  the  direction  of 
religious  doubts,  which  agitated  me  in  my  boyhood,  was 
made  by  nie  at  this  time,  not  because  my  misfortune  had 
incited  me  to  murmuring  and  unbehef,  but  because  the 
thought  of  an  unjust  Providence,  which  had  entered  my 
mind  at  this  moment  of  complete  spiritual  disorganiza- 
tion, rapidly  sprouted  and  took  root,  just  like  an  evil 
seed  which  after  a  rain  has  fallen  on  the  loosened  earth. 

Then,  again,  I  imagined  that  I  should  certainly  die,  and 
I  represented  vividly  to  myself  St.  Jerome's  astonishment 
when  he  would  find  my  lifeless  body  in  the  lumber-room. 
I  recalled  the  stories  of  Natalya  Savishna  about  the  soul 
of  a  deceased  person  not  leaving  the  house  for  forty  days, 
and  I  mentally  passed  unnoticed,  after  my  death,  through 
all  the  rooms  of  grandmother's  house,  and  listened  to  the 
genuine  tears  of  Lyiibochka,  to  the  laments  of  grand- 
mother, and  to  papa's  conversation  with  Avgiist  Antono- 
vich,  "  He  was  a  fine  boy,"  papa  would  say  with  tears 
in  his  eyes.  "  Yes,"  St.  Jerome  would  answer,  "  but  a 
wild  fellow."  "You  ought  to  respect  the  dead,"  papa 
would  say,  "  you  were  the  cause  of  his  death,  you  have 
frightened  him  to  death,  and  he  could  not  bear  the 
humiliation  which  you  had  caused  him.  Away  from 
here,  rascal ! " 

St.  Jerome  would  fall  upon  his  knees,  would  weep  and 
beg  forgiveness.  After  forty  days  my  soul  would  fly  away 
to  heaven.  There  I  see  something  wonderfully  beautiful, 
white,  transparent,  and  long,  and  I  feel  it  is  my  mother. 
This  white  form  surrounds  and  pets  me.  "  If  it  is  really 
you,"  I  say,  "  show  yourself  better,  that  I  may  be  able  to 
embrace  you,"  And  the  voice  answers  me :  "  We  are 
all  like  this  here,  I  cannot  embrace  you  any  better. 
Are  you  not  happy  as  it  is?"  "Yes,  I  am  very  happy, 
but  you  cannot  tickle  me,  and  I  cannot  kiss  your  hands." 


204  BOYHOOD 

"There  is  no  need  of  it;  it  is  nice  here  without  it,"  she 
says,  and  I  feel  that  it  is  nice  indeed,  and  we  fly  together 
higher  and  higher. 

Just  then,  it  seemed,  I  awoke  and  found  myself  again 
on  the  box,  in  the  lumber-room,  with  cheeks  wet  from 
tears,  meaninglessly  repeating  the  words :  "  And  we  fly 
higher  and  higher ! "  I  made  every  imaginable  effort 
to  clear  up  my  situation,  but  only  a  terribly  gloomy, 
impenetrable  distance  presented  itself  to  my  mental  vision. 
I  tried  to  return  to  those  consoling,  happy  dreams,  which 
the  consciousness  of  reality  had  interrupted,  but  to  my 
astonishment  I  found,  every  time  I  returned  on  the  road 
of  my  former  dreams,  that  their  continuation  was  impos- 
sible, and  what  was  most  remarkable,  that  tliey  no  longer 
afforded  me  any  pleasure. 


XVL 

AFTEK   GRINDING  COMES   FLOUR 

I  PASSED  the  night  in  the  lumber-room,  and  nobody 
came  to  see  me.  Only  the  next  day,  that  is,  on  Sunday, 
I  was  transferred  to  a  small  room,  near  the  class-room, 
and  was  locked  up  again.  I  began  to  hope  that  my  pun- 
ishment would  be  limited  to  incarceration,  and  my 
thoughts  grew  calmer,  under  the  influence  of  a  sweet  and 
refreshing  sleep,  of  the  bright  sun  which  glistened  on  the 
frosty  designs  of  the  windows,  and  of  the  usual  noise  m 
the  street  in  daytime.  Nevertheless,  the  solitary  confine- 
ment was  hard  to  bear :  I  wanted  to  move  about,  to  tell 
somebody  everything  that  had  accumulated  within  my 
soul,  and  there  was  no  living  being  near  me.  This  situa- 
tion was  the  more  disagreeable  since  I  could  not  help 
hearing,  however  much  I  hated  it,  St.  JerQme  pacing  up 
and  down  his  room,  and  calmly  whistling  some  merry 
tunes.  I  was  absolutely  convinced  that  he  did  not  want 
to  whistle  at  all,  but  that  he  did  so  only  to  annoy  me. 

At  two  o'clock  St.  Jerome  and  Volddya  went  down- 
stairs, and  Nikolay  brought  me  my  dinner,  and  when  I 
talked  with  him  about  what  I  had  done,  and  what  awaited 
me,  he  said : 

"  Oh,  well,  sir  !  Don't  worry  :  After  grinding  comes 
flour." 

Though  this  proverb,  which  later  in  life  often  fortified 
my  spirit,  gave  me  some  consolation,  the  fact  that  tliey 
had  sent  me,  not  bread  and  water,  but  the  whole  dinner, 

206 


206  BOYHOOD 

even  dessert  —  white-loaves  —  gave  me  much  concern.  If 
they  had  not  sent  me  the  white-loaves,  I  should  have 
concluded  that  the  incarceration  was  my  punishment,  but 
now  it  appeared  that  I  was  not  yet  punished,  that  I  was 
only  removed  from  the  others  as  a  dangerous  man,  and 
that  the  punishment  was  still  ahead.  While  I  was 
deeply  engaged  in  the  solution  of  this  question,  a  key 
was  turned  in  the  lock  of  my  prison,  and  St.  Jerome 
entered  the  room,  with  an  austere  and  official  expression 
on  his  face. 

"  Come  to  grandmother ! "  he  said,  without  looking  at 
me. 

I  wanted  to  clean  the  sleeves  of  the  blouse,  that  had 
become  soiled  by  chalk,  before  leaving  the  room,  but  St. 
Jerome  said  that  this  was  entirely  unnecessary,  as  though 
I  was  already  in  such  a  wretched  moral  state  that  it  was 
not  worth  while  to  trouble  myself  about  my  appearance. 

Katenka,  Lyubochka,  and  Volodya  gazed  at  me,  as  St. 
Jerome  led  me  by  my  arm  through  the  parlour,  with  ex- 
actly the  same  expression  with  which  we  looked  at  the 
prisoners  who  used  to  be  taken  by  our  windows  on  Mon- 
days. When  I  walked  up  to  grandmother's  armchair, 
with  the  intention  of  kissing  her  hand,  she  turned  away 
from  me  and  hid  her  hand  under  her  mantilla. 

"  Yes,  my  dear,"  she  said,  after  a  protracted  silence, 
during  which  she  surveyed  me  from  head  to  foot  with 
such  an  expression  that  I  did  not  know  what  to  do  with 
my  eyes  and  hands,  "  I  must  say  you  value  my  love  very 
much,  and  afford  me  genuine  consolation.  M.  St.  Je- 
rome, who,  at  my  request,"  she  added,  stretching  out  every 
word,  "  undertook  your  education,  does  not  wish  to  stay 
in  my  house  any  longer.  And  why  ?  On  your  account, 
ray  dear.  I  had  hoped  that  you  would  be  grateful,"  she 
continued,  after  a  moment's  silence  and  in  a  tone  which 
proved  that  her  speech  had  been  prepared  long  before, 
"  for  his  care  and  labours,  that  you  would  know  how  to 


AFTER   GRINDING    COMES    FLOUR  207 

value  his  deserts,  whereas  you,  pert  little  urchin,  have 
dared  to  Uft  your  hand  against  him  !  Very  well !  Beau- 
tiful! I  am  beginning  to  think  myself  that  you  are  not 
capable  of  understanding  kmd  treatment,  and  that  other, 
lower  means  must  be  used  with  you.  Immediately  ask 
his  pardon,"  she  added,  in  a  stern,  commanding  tone, 
pointing  to  St.  Jerome  ;  "  do  you  hear  ?  " 

I  looked  in  the  direction  indicated  by  grandmother's 
hand,  and,  noticing  St.  Jerome's  coat,  turned  away  and 
did  not  budge  from  the  spot,  a  sensation  of  fainting  over- 
coming me  again. 

"  Well,  do  you  not  hear  what  I  am  saying  to  you  ? " 

I  trembled  with  my  whole  body,  but  did  not  budge. 

"  Koko ! "  said  grandmother,  when  she,  evidently,  ob- 
served the  inward  suffering  whicli  I  was  experiencing. 
"  Koko,"  she  said,  this  time  not  so  much  in  a  command- 
ing, as  in  a  tender  voice,  "  is  it  you  ? " 

"  Grandmother,  I  will  not  ask  his  pardon  for  anything," 
I  said,  and  suddenly  stopped,  for  I  felt  that  I  should  not 
be  able  to  restrain  the  tears  that  were  choking  me,  if  I 
were  to  say  another  word. 

"  I  command  you,  I  beg  you.  What  is  the  matter 
with  you  ? " 

"I  —  I  —  do  not  —  want  to  —  I  cannot,"  I  muttered, 
and  the  checked  sobs,  which  had  accumulated  in  my  breast, 
suddenly  burst  their  barrier,  and  issued  in  a  furious  torrent. 

"  C'est  ainsi  que  vous  oheissez  a  votrc  seconde  mere,  c'est 
ainsi  que  vous  reconnaissez  ses  hontSs"  said  St.  Jerome  in 
a  tragic  voice.     "  A  genoux  !  " 

"  My  God,  if  she  saw  this ! "  said  grandmother,  turning 
away  from  me  and  wiping  off  the  tears  that  had  appeared 
in  her  eyes. 

"  If  she  saw  this  !  But  all  is  for  the  best.  Yes,  she 
would  not  have  lived  through  this  sorrow,  she  would  not." 

And  grandmother  wept  harder  and  harder.  I,  too, 
wept,  but  I  did  not  even  think  of  asking  forgiveness. 


208  BOYHOOD 

"  Tranquillisez-vous  au  nom  du  del,  Madame  la  Com- 
tesse,"  said  St.  J(^r6me. 

But  grandmother  was  not  listening  to  him.  She  cov- 
ered her  face  with  her  hands,  and  her  sobs  soon  passed 
into  hiccoughs  and  hysterics.  Mimi  and  Gasha  ran  into 
the  room  with  frightened  faces,  there  was  an  odour  of 
spirits,  and  the  whole  house  was  on  its  feet  and  whisper- 
ing. 

"  Enjoy  what  you  have  done,"  said  St.  Jerome,  as  he 
led  me  up-stairs. 

"0  God !  what  have  I  done  ?  What  a-  terrible  crimi- 
nal I  am ! " 

No  sooner  had  St.  J&ome  walked  down-stairs,  after 
ordering  me  to  go  to  my  room,  than  I  ran  down  the 
large  staircase  which  led  to  the  street,  without  being 
clearly  conscious  of  what  I  was  doing. 

"  Whither  are  you  running  ? "  a  familiar  voice  suddenly 
asked  me.     "  I  want  you,  my  darling !  " 

I  wanted  to  run  by  him,  but  father  caught  my  arm, 
and  said,  sternly : 

"  Come  with  me,  my  dear !  How  did  you  dare  to 
touch  the  portfolio  in  my  cabinet  ? "  He  led  me  into  the 
small  sofa-room.  "  Well  ?  Why  don't  you  say  some- 
thing ?     Well  ? "  he  added,  pulling  my  ear. 

"  I  am  guilty,"  I  said.  "  I  do  not  know  myself  what 
tempted  me ! " 

"  Oh,  you  don't  know  what  tempted  you,  you  don't 
know,  you  don't,  you  don't,  you  don't,"  he  repeated,  at 
every  word  shaking  ray  ear.  "  Will  you  ever  again  put 
in  your  nose  where  it  does  not  belong  ?  Will  you  ?  Will 
you  ? " 

Tliough  T  felt  a  terrible  pain  in  my  ear,  I  did  not 
weep,  but  experienced  a  pleasant  moral  sensation.  The 
moment  he  let  my  ear  go,  I  seized  his  hand,  and,  with 
tears  in  my  eyes,  began  to  cover  it  with  kisses. 

"  Strike  me  again,"  I  said  through  my  tears,  "  harder, 


APTEE    GRINDIKG   COMES    FLOUR  209 

more !  I  am  a  good-for-nothing,  miserable,  unhappy 
man  ! " 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  you  ?"  he  said,  pushing  me 
lightly  aside. 

"  No,  I  sha'n't  go  away  for  anything,"  I  said,  clinging 
to  his  coat.  "  Everybody  hates  me,  I  know  it,  but,  for 
the  Lord's  sake,  listen  to  me,  defend  me,  or  drive  me  out 
of  the  house  !  I  cannot  live  with  him  !  He  is  trying  in 
every  way  to  humihate  me,  orders  me  to  kneel  in  his 
presence,  and  wants  to  whip  me.  I  cannot  stand  it  I 
am  not  a  little  child ;  I  shall  not  live  through  it,  I  shall 
die ;  I  w^ill  kill  myself.  He  told  grandmother  that  I  was 
a  good-for-nothing,  and  she  is  now  ill,  she  will  die  through 
me,  I  —  with  —  him  —  for  the  Lord's  sake,  whip  me  — 
—  why  —  do  they  —  tor — ment  me  ? " 

My  tears  choked  me,  I  sat  down  on  the  divan,  and,  not 
being  able  to  say  anything  more,  fell  with  my  head  upon 
his  knees  and  sobbed  so  much  that  I  thought  I  was  going 
to  die  that  very  minute. 

"  What  are  you  weeping  about,  you  round-cheeks  ? " 
said  papa,  sympathetically,  as  he  leaned  over  me. 

"  He  is  my  tyrant  —  tormentor  —  I  shall  die  —  no- 
body loves  me ! "  I  barely  was  able  to  utter,  and  I  fell 
into  convulsions. 

Papa  took  me  in  his  arms  and  carried  me  into  the 
sleeping-room.     I  fell  asleep. 

When  I  awoke,  it  was  very  late,  a  candle  was  burning 
near  my  bed,  and  in  the  room  sat  our  family  doctor, 
Mimi,  and  Lyilbochka.  I  could  see  by  their  faces  that 
they  were  afraid  for  my  health.  But  I  felt  so  well  and 
light  after  a  sleep  of  almost  twelve  hours  that  I  should 
have  leaped  out  of  my  bed,  if  it  had  not  been  so  dis- 
agreeable for  me  to  disturb  their  conviction  that  I  was 
very  ill 


XVII. 

HATBED 

Yes,  it  was  a  real  feeling,  of  hatred,  —  not  of  that 
hatred  of  which  we  read  in  novels,  and  in  which  I  do  not 
believe,  —  not  of  that  hatred  which  finds  pleasure  in  do- 
ing a  person  some  harm,  but  of  that  hatred  which  in- 
spires you  with  an  irresistible  loathing  for  a  person  who, 
otherwise,  deserves  your  respect,  which  makes  you  loathe 
his  hair,  his  neck,  his  gait,  the  sound  of  his  voice,  all  his 
members  and  all  his  motions,  and,  at  the  same  time, 
attracts  you  to  him  by  some  incomprehensible  power,  and 
compels  you  with  restless  attention  to  follow  every 
minutest  act  of  his.  I  experienced  this  feeling  for  St. 
J(^rume. 

St.  J(5r6me  had  been  living  in  our  house  for  a  year  and 
a  half.  When  I  now  think  coolly  of  the  man,  I  find  that 
he  was  a  good  Frenchman,  but  a  Frenchman  in  the  high- 
est degree.  He  was  not  stupid,' quite  well  educated,  and 
conscientiously  executed  his  duty  toward  us ;  but  he 
was  possessed  of  the  characteristic  traits  of  frivolous 
egotism,  vanity,  impudence,  and  ignorant  self-confidence, 
which  are  common  to  all  of  his  countrymen,  and  are 
diametrically  opposed  to  the  Russian  character.  All 
that  I  did  not  like.  Of  course,  grandmother  had  ex- 
plained to  him  her  opinion  in  regard  to  corporal  punish- 
ment, and  he  did  not  dare  strike  us ;  but,  in  spite  of  this, 
he  often  threatened  us,  especially  me,  with  the  rod,  and 
pronounced  the  word  fouetter  (something  like  fouatter)  so 

210 


HATRED  211 

disgustingly,  and  with  such  an  intonation  as  if  it  would 
give  him  the  greatest  pleasure  to  whip  me. 

I  was  not  in  the  least  afraid  of  the  pain  of  the  punish- 
ment, though  I  had  never  experienced  it,  but  the  mere 
thought  that  St.  J(^rome  could  strike  me  induced  in  me  a 
heavy  feehng  of  subdued  despair  and  fury. 

In  moments  of  anger  Karl  Ivanovich  used  to  make  his 
personal  accounts  with  us  by  means  of  the  ruler  or  sus- 
penders, but  I  recall  that  without  the  least  annoyance. 
Even  if  Karl  Ivanovich  had  struck  me  at  that  particular 
moment  (when  I  was  fourteen  years  old),  I  should  have 
borne  his  blows  with  equanimity.  I  loved  Karl  Ivan- 
ovich, remembered  him  as  far  back  as  I  could  remember 
myself,  and  was  accustomed  to  regard  him  as  a  member 
of  the  family ;  but  St.  Jerome  was  a  haughty  and  self- 
satisfied  man,  for  whom  I  felt  nothing  but  that  invol- 
untary respect  with  which  all  grown  people  inspired 
me.  Karl  Ivanovich  was  a  funny  old  valet,  whom  I 
loved  with  all  my  soul,  but  whom  I  placed,  nevertheless, 
below  myself  in  my  childish  conception  of  social  standing. 

St.  Jerome,  on  the  contrary,  was  an  educated,  fine- 
looking  young  dandy,  who  tried  to  stand  on  the  same 
level  with  us. 

Karl  Ivanovich  used  to  scold  and  punish  us  with  indif- 
ference ;  it  was  evident  that  he  regarded  it  as  a  disagree- 
able, though  necessary,  duty.  St.  Jerome,  on  the  contrary, 
liked  to  pose  as  a  tutor ;  it  was  evident  that,  when  he 
punished  us,  he  did  so  more  for  his  own  pleasure  than  for 
our  good.  He  was  carried  away  by  his  majesty.  His 
high-flowing  French  phrases,  which  he  pronounced  with 
a  strong  accent  on  the  last  syllable,  with  circumflexes, 
were  inexpressibly  repulsive  to  me.  When  Karl  Ivan- 
ovich grew  angry,  he  said :  "  Puppet  show,  vanton  boy, 
Shampanish  fly."  St.  Jerome  called  us  "  m.auvais  sujet, 
vilain  garnement"  and  so  forth,  giving  me  names  which 
offended  my  self-esteem. 


212  BOYHOOD 

Karl  Tvanovich  used  to  put  us  on  our  knees  with  face 
to  the  corner,  and  the  punishment  consisted  in  the  physi- 
cal pain  which  arose  from  such  an  attitude ;  St.  Jerome 
threw  out  his  chest,  made  a  majestic  gesture  with  his 
hand,  and  cried,  in  a  tragic  voice :  "  A  genoux,  mauvais 
sujet  !  "  and  compelled  us  to  get  down  on  our  knees  with 
our  faces  turned  toward  him,  and  ask  his  forgiveness. 
The  punishment  consisted  in  humiliation. 

I  was  not  punished  and  nobody  even  mentioned  what 
had  happened  to  me  ;  but  I  could  not  forget  what  despair, 
shame,  and  terror  I  had  experienced  in  those  two  days. 
Although  St,  Jerome  ever  since  then  gave  me  up  and 
hardly  paid  any  attention  to  me,  I  could  not  get  accus- 
tomed to  looking  upon  him  with  equauin)ity.  Every  time 
our  eyes  met  by  accident,  I  felt  that  my  glance  expressed  .■ 

too  much  apparent  hatred,  and  I  hastened  to  assume  an 
expression  of  indifference  ;  but  when  I  thought  he  under- 
stood my  simulation,  I  blushed  and  turned  my  face  away 
altogether. 

In  short,  it  was  inexpressibly  hard  for  me  to  have  any 
relations  with  him. 


XVIII. 

THE   maids'    chamber 

I  FELT  more  and  more  lonely,  and  my  chief  pleasures 
were  solitary  meditations  and  observations.  I  shall  tell 
in  the  next  chapter  of  the  subject  of  my  meditations ;  but 
the  scene  of  my  observations  was  preeminently  the  maids' 
chamber,  where  a  pathetic  romance  took  place,  which 
interested  me  very  much.  The  heroine  of  this  romance, 
of  course,  was  Mash  a.  She  was  in  love  with  Vasili,  who 
had  known  her  when  she  was  still  at  liberty,  and  who  had 
promised  to  marry  her.  Fate,  which  had  separated  them 
five  years  before,  had  again  brought  them  together  in 
grandmother's  house,  but  had  placed  a  barrier  to  their 
mutual  love  in  the  person  of  Nikolay,  Masha's  uncle,  who 
would  not  listen  to  Masha's  marrying  Vasili,  whom  he 
called  a  weak-brained  and  reckless  man. 

This  barrier  had  the  result  that  Vasili,  who  heretofore 
had  been  cold  and  careless  in  his  relations  to  Maslia,  now 
fell  in  love  with  her,  and  he  fell  in  love  as  much  as  a  man 
is  capable  of  such  a  sentiment,  when  he  has  been  a  tailor 
in  manorial  service,  wearing  a  rose-coloured  blouse  and 
waxing  his  hair  with  pomatum. 

Although  his  manifestations  of  love  were  very  strange 
and  awkward  (for  example,  whenever  he  met  Masha  he 
tried  to  cause  her  pain :  either  he  pinched  her,  or  struck 
her  with  the  palm  of  his  hand,  or  squeezed  her  with  such 
power  that  she  scarcely  could  draw  breath),  his  love  was 
sincere,  which  is  proved  even  by  this,  that  from  the  very 

213 


214  BOYHOOD 

time  when  Nikolay  had  defiuitely  refused  him  the  hand  of 
his  niece,  he  had  gone  on  a  protracted  spree  from  sorrow, 
and  frequented  inns  and  was  riotous  in  his  behaviour,  — 
in  short,  he  acted  so  outrageously  that  he  often  was  sub- 
jected to  humiliating  punishments  at  the  police  station. 
But  these  actions  of  his  and  their  consequences  seemed 
to  constitute  a  special  merit  in  Masha's  eyes,  and  only 
increased  her  love  for  him.  Whenever  Vasili  was  re- 
tained in  the  lockup,  Masha  cried  for  days  at  a  time 
and  did  not  dry  her  tears ;  she  complained  of  her  bitter 
fate  to  Gasha,  who  took  a  lively  part  in  the  affairs  of  the 
unfortunate  lovers,  and  paying  no  attention  to  her  uncle's 
scolding  and  beating,  she  stealthily  ran  to  the  police 
station  to  visit  and  comfort  her  friend. 

Eeader,  do  not  look  with  contempt  upon  the  society  to 
which  I  am  introducing  you !  If  the  strings  of  love  and 
sympathy  have  not  slackened  in  your  souls,  you  will  find 
sounds  in  the  maids'  chamber  to  which  they  will  respond. 
Whether  you  like  to  follow  me  or  not,  I  betake  myself  to 
the  landing  on  the  staircase,  from  which  I  can  see  every- 
thing that  takes  place  in  the  room.  There  is  the  oven- 
bench,  upon  winch  stands  a  flat-iron,  a  papier-mach^  doll 
with  a  broken  nose,  a  wash-basin,  and  a  pitcher;  there  is 
the  window,  upon  which  lies  in  disorder  a  bit  of  black 
wax,  a  skein  of  silk,  a  half-eaten  green  cucumber  and  a 
candy  box ;  there  is  a  large  red  table,  upon  which  a 
chintz-covered  brick  is  placed  over  a  new  piece  of  sewing. 

It  was  here  that  Masha  sat,  wearing  my  favourite, 
rose-coloured  gingham  dress  and  blue  kerchief,  which  par- 
ticularly attracted  my  attention.  She  was  sewing,  and 
stopped,  now  and  then,  to  scratch  her  head  with  the 
needle,  or  to  fix  the  candle.  I  looked  at  her  and  thought : 
Why  was  she  not  born  a  lady  with  those  bright  blue 
eyes,  immense  auburn  braid  and  higli  breast  ?  How  well 
she  would  look  in  a  sitting-room  in  a  cap  with  rose- 
coloured  ribbons  and  in  a  crimson  capote,  not  such  as  Mimi 


i 


THE  maids'  chamber  215 

had,  but  such  as  I  had  seen  in  the  Tver  Boulevard.  She 
would  be  working  at  the  embroidery-frame,  and  I  should 
be  looking  at  her  in  the  mirror,  and  I  should  give  hev 
anything  she  might  ask  for,  hand  her  her  cloak,  and 
myself  serve  her  her  food. 

What  a  drunken  face  and  repulsive  figure  that  Vasili 
had,  in  his  tight  coat  which  he  wore  over  his  dirty  rose- 
coloured  blouse !  In  every  motion  of  his,  in  every  curva- 
ture of  his  back,  I  thought  I  read  the  undoubted  signs  of 
the  disgusting  punishment  which  had  befallen  him. 

"  What,  Vasya,  again  ?  "  said  Masha,  sticking  her  needle 
into  the  cushion,  and  without  raising  her  head  to  meet 
Vasili,  who  was  just  entering. 

"  Well,  what  good  will  come  fronj  him  ? "  answered 
Vasili.  "  If  he'd  only  make  his  mind  up  one  way  or  the 
other !     As  it  is,  I  am  ruined,  and  all  on  his  account ! " 

"  Will  you  drink  tea  ? "  said  Nadezhda,  another  chamber- 
maid. 

"  Thank  you  very  much.  What  does  that  thief,  your 
uncle,  hate  me  for  ?  For  having  a  decent  suit,  for  my 
bearing,  for  my  gftit  ?  In  short  —  the  deuce  !  "  Vasili 
concluded,  waving  his  hand. 

"  You  must  be  sulimissive,"  said  Masha,  biting  off  a 
thread,  "  but  you,  on  the  contrary  —  " 

"  My  patience  has  given  out,  that's  what ! " 

Just  then  a  door  was  heard  slamming  in  grandmother's 
room,  and  the  gruff  voice  of  Gasha,  who  was  walking  up 
the  stairs. 

"  Go  and  please  her,  when  she  does  not  know  herself 
what  she  wants  —  it  is  an  accursed  life,  a  prisoner's  life  ! 
If  only  the  Lord  will  forgive  my  sin,"  she  grumbled, 
waving  her  arms. 

"  My  respects  to  Agafya  Mikhaylovna ! "  said  Vasih, 
rising  in  his  seat,  as  she  entered. 

"  You  here  again  !  I  have  other  things  to  think  of 
besides  your  respects,"  she  answered,  looking  threateningly 


216  BOYHOOD 

at  him.  "  "Why  are  you  comiDg  here  ?  Is  it  proper  for 
a  man  to  come  to  girls'  rooms  ? " 

"  I  wanted  to  find  out  about  your  health,"  timidly  said 
Vasih. 

"  I'll  bite  the  dust  soon,  that's  the  way  of  my  health  !  " 
angrily  cried  Agafya  Mikhaylovna  at  the  top  of  her  voice. 

Vasih  laughed. 

"  There  is  nothing  to  laugh  about,  aud  when  I  tell  you 
to  get  out,  go  !  I  declare,  that  heathen,  that  rascal  wants 
to  marry  !     Now,  march,  get  out ! " 

Agafya  Mikhaylovna  stamped  her  foot  and  went  to  her 
room,  slamming  the  door  with  such  force  that  the  win- 
dow-panes shook. 

One  could  hear  her  behind  the  partition  for  a  long 
time,  flinging  about  her  things  and  pulhng  the  ears  of  her 
favourite  cat,  wliile  scolding  everybody  and  everything, 
and  cursing  her  life ;  finally  the  door  was  opened,  and  the 
cat,  mewing  pitifully,  was  whirled  out  by  her  tail. 

"  I  see  I  had  better  come  some  other  time  to  take  a 
glass  of  tea,"  said  Vasili  in  a  whisper.  "  Good-bye  till  the 
next  pleasant  meeting  ! " 

"  Never  mind,"  said  Nadezhda,  winking,  "  I  shall  go 
and  look  after  the  samovar." 

"  I  will  make  an  end  of  it,"  continued  Vasili,  seating 
himself  nearer  to  Masha,  the  moment  Nad(^zhda  left  the 
room.  "  Either  I'll  go  straight  to  the  countess,  and  will 
say :  '  It  is  so  and  so,'  or  I'll  throw  everything  away,  and, 
upon  my  word,  will  run  away  to  the  end  of  the  world." 

"  And  I  shall  remain  —  " 

"  It  is  you  alone  I  am  sorry  for,  or  else  my  head 
would  long  ago  have  been  in  the  free  world,  upon  my 
word,  upon  my  word." 

"  Vasili,  why  don't  you  bring  me  your  blouses  to  get 
them  washed,"  said  Masha,  after  a  minute's  silence,  "  for 
just  see  how  black  it  is,"  she  added,  taking  hold  of  the 
collar  of  liis  blouse. 


I 


THE  maids'  chamber  217 

Just  then  grandmother's  bell  was  heard  down-stairs, 
and  Gasha  came  out  of  her  room. 

"  Well,  rascal,  what  do  you  want  of  her  ? "  she  said, 
pushing  Vasili  out  of  the  door,  who  got  up  in  haste,  when 
he  saw  her.  "  Tliis  is  what  you  have  brought  her  to,  and 
now  you  annoy  her.  You  beggar,  you  evidently  take 
delight  in  looking  at  her  tears.  Get  out !  Let  not  your 
breath  be  here  again  !  And  what  good  thing  have  you 
found  in  him  ?  "  she  continued,  turning  to  Masha.  "  Has 
your  uncle  not  beaten  you  enough  to-day  ?  No,  you 
stick  to  it :  'I  sha'n't  marry  anybody  but  Vasili  Gruskov ! ' 
Fool ! " 

"  Yes,  and  I  will  not  marry  anybody,  T  will  not  love 
anybody,  even  though  you  kill  me,"  said  Masha,  suddenly 
bursting  into  tears. 

For  a  long  time  I  looked  at  Masha,  who  lay  on  a  trunk 
and  wiped  her  tears  with  her  kerchief.  I  endeavoured  to 
get  rid  of  my  idea  of  Vasili,  and  to  find  that  point  of 
view  from  which  he  could  appear  so  attractive  to  her. 
Yet,  though  I  sincerely  sympathized  with  her  grief,  I  was 
unable  to  comprehend  how  such  a  charming  being  as 
Masha  seemed  to  be  in  my  eyes,  could  love  Vasili. 

"  When  I  am  grown  up,"  I  discoursed  to  myself,  after 
I  had  returned  to  my  room,  "  the  Petrdvskoe  estate  will 
go  to  me,  and  Vasili  and  Masha  will  be  my  serfs.  I 
shall  be  sitting  in  my  cabinet  and  smoking  a  pipe. 
Masha  will  pass  to  the  kitchen  with  a  flat-iron.  I  shall 
say,  '  Call  Masha ! '  She  will  come,  and  nobody  will  be 
in  the  room.  Suddenly  Vasili  will  enter,  and,  seeing 
Masha,  he  will  say :  '  I  am  a  ruined  man  ! '  and  Masha, 
too,  will  burst  out  weeping,  and  I  shall  say  :  '  Vasili,  I 
know  that  you  love  her,  and  that  she  loves  you.  Here, 
take  one  thousand  roubles,  marry  her,  and  God  grant  you 
happiness ! '  and  I  shall  myself  go  into  the  sofa-room." 

Among  the  endless  number  of  thoughts  and  dreams 
that   tracklessly  cross   the    mind    and    the    imagination, 


218  BOYHOOD 

there  are  some  that  leave  a  deep,  pronounced  furrow  be- 
hind them ;  so  that  frequently  one  remembers,  without 
remembering  the  essence  of  the  thought,  that  something 
good  has  been  in  the  head,  one  feels  the  traces  of  the 
thought,  and  tries  to  reproduce  it.  Such  a  deep  trace 
was  left  in  my  soul  by  the  thought  of  sacrificing  my  feel- 
ing in  favour  of  Masha's  happiness,  which  she  could  find 
only  in  her  marriage  with  Vasili. 


XIX. 

BOYHOOD 

People  will  hardly  believe  what  the  favourite  and  most 
constant  subjects  of  my  thoughts  were  during  the  period 
of  my  boyhood,  —  for  they  were  incompatible  with  my 
age  and  station.  But,  according  to  my  opinion,  the  in- 
compatibility between  a  man's  position  and  his  moral 
activity  is  the  safest  token  of  truth. 

In  the  course  of  the  year,  during  which  I  led  a  soli- 
tary, concentrated  moral  life,  all  abstract  thoughts  of 
man's  destiny,  of  the  future  life,  of  the  immortality  of  the 
soul  presented  themselves  to  my  mind,  and  my  weak 
childish  reason  tried  with  all  the  fervour  of  inexperience 
to  elucidate  those  questions^  whose  proposition  marks  the 
highest  degree  the  human  mind  can  reach,  but  the  solu- 
tion of  which  is  not  given  to  it. 

It  seems  to  me  that  the  human  mind  in  its  evolution 
passes  in  every  separate  individual  over  the  same  path  on 
which  it  evolves  during  whole  generations  ;  that  the  ideas 
which  have  served  for  the  basis  of  distinct  philosophical 
theories  form  inseparable  parts  of  mind ;  and  that  every 
man  has  more  or  less  clearly  been  conscious  of  them  long 
before  he  knew  of  the  existence  of  philosophical  theories. 

These  ideas  presented  themselves  to  my  mind  with 
such  clearness  and  precision  that  I  even  tried  to  apply 
them  to  life,  imagining  that  I  was  the  first  who  had  dis- 
covered such  great  and  useful  truths. 

At  one  time  it  occurred  to  me  that  happiness  did  not 

219 


220  BOYHOOD 

depend  ou  external  causes,  but  on  our  relation  to  them ; 
that  a  man  who  is  accustomed  to  bear  suffering  could  not 
be  unhappy.  To  accustom  myself  to  endurance,  I  would 
hold  for  five  minutes  at  a  time  the  dictionaries  of  Tatlsh- 
chev  in  my  outstretched  hands,  tliough  that  caused  me 
unspeakable  pain,  or  I  would  go  into  the  lumber-room 
and  strike  my  bare  back  so  painfully  with  a  rope  that  the 
tears  would  involuntarily  appear  in  my  eyes. 

At  another  time,  I  happened  to  think  that  death 
awaited  me  at  any  hour  and  at  any  minute,  and  wonder- 
ing how  it  was  people  had  not  seen  this  before  me,  I 
decided  that  man  cannot  be  happy  otherwise  than  by 
enjoying  the  present  and  not  caring  for  the  future.  Under 
the  influence  of  this  thought,  I  abandoned  my  lessons  for 
two  or  three  days,  and  did  nothing  but  lie  on  my  bed  and 
enjoy  myself  reading  some  novel  and  eating  honey  cakes 
which  I  bought  with  my  last  money. 

At  another  time,  as  I  was  standing  at  the  blackboard 
and  drawing  various  figures  upon  it  with  a  piece  of  chalk, 
I  was  suddenly  struck  by  the  idea :  Wliy  is  symmetry 
pleasant  to  the  eye  ?  What  is  symmetry  ?  It  is  an 
implanted  feeling,  I  answered  myself.  What  is  it  based 
upon  ?  Is  symmetry  to  be  found  in  everything  in  life  ? 
Not  at  all.  Here  is  life,  —  and  I  drew  an  oval  figure  on 
the  board.  After  hfe  the  soul  passes  into  eternity ;  here 
is  eternity,  —  and  I  drew,  on  one  side  of  the  figure,  a  line 
to  the  very  edge  of  the  board.  Why  is  there  no  such 
line  on  the  other  side  of  the  figure  ?  Eeally,  what  kind 
of  an  eternity  is  that  which  is  only  on  one  side  ?  We 
have  no  doubt  existed  before  this  life,  although  we  have 
lost  the  recollection  of  it. 

This  consideration,  which  then  appeared  extremely 
novel  and  clear  to  me,  but  the  connection  of  which  I  can 
barely  make  out  now,  gave  me  extreme  pleasure,  and  I 
took  a  sheet  of  paper  and  intended  to  put  my  idea  down 
in  writing ;  but  such  a  mass  of  ideas  suddenly  burst  upon 


BOYHOOD  221 

me  that  I  was  compelled  to  get  up  and  walk  about  the 
room.  As  I  walked  up  to  the  window,  my  attention 
was  drawn  to  the  horse  which  a  driver  was  hitching  to  a 
water-cart,  and  all  my  thoughts  centred  on  the  solution 
of  the  question,  into  what  animal  or  man  the  soul  of  that 
horse  would  pass  after  her  death.  Just  then  Volddya 
crossed  the  room  and,  seeing  that  I  was  deep  in  thought, 
smiled.  This  smile  was  enough  to  make  me  understand 
that  all  I  had  been  thinking  about  was  the  merest  bosh. 

I  have  told  this  memorable  incident  only  to  give  the 
reader  an  idea  what  my  reasonings  were  like. 

By  none  of  these  philosophical  considerations  was  I  so 
carried  away  as  by  scepticism,  wliich  at  one  time  led  me 
to  a  condition  bordering  on  insanity.  I  imagined  that 
nothing  existed  in  the  whole  world  outside  of  me,  that 
objects  were  no  objects,  but  only  images  which  appeared 
whenever  I  turned  my  attention  to  them,  and  that  these 
images  would  immediately  disappear  when  I  no  longer 
thought  of  them.  In  short,  I  held  the  conviction 
with  Schelhng  that  objects  do  not  exist,  but  only  my 
relation  to  them.  There  were  moments  when,  under  the 
influence  of  this  fixed  idea,  I  reached  such  a  degree  of 
absurdity  that  I  sometimes  suddenly  turned  in  the  oppo- 
site direction,  hoping  to  take  nothingness  by  surprise, 
where  I  was  not. 

"What  a  miserable,  insignificant  mainspring  of  moral 
activities  the  human  mind  is ! 

My  feeble  reason  could  not  penetrate  the  impenetrable, 
and  in  the  labour  which  transcended  its  power,  I  lost,  one 
after  another,  those  convictions  which,  for  the  happiness 
of  my  life,  I  ought  never  to  have  presumed  to  touch. 

From  all  that  heavy  moral  labour  I  carried  away  nothing 
but  agility  of  mind,  which  weakened  my  will-power,  and 
a  habit  of  constant  moral  analysis,  which  destroyed  the 
freshness  of  my  feeling  and  the  clearness  of  my  under- 
standing. 


222  BOYHOOD 

Abstract  ideas  are  formed  in  consequence  of  a  man's 
ability  to  grasp,  consciously,  the  condition  of  his  soul  at 
a  certain  moment,  and  to  transfer  it  to  his  memory.  My 
inclination  for  abstract  reasonings  so  unnaturally  devel- 
oped my  consciousness  that  frequently,  when  I  began  to 
think  of  the  simplest  thing,  I  fell  into  the  inextricable 
circle  of  the  analysis  of  my  thoughts,  and  I  no  longer 
thought  of  the  question  which  occupied  my  attention,  but 
I  thought  of  the  fact  that  I  thought.  If  I  asked  myself : 
Of  what  am  I  thinking  ?  I  answered  :  I  am  thinking  of 
thinking.  And  what  am  I  thinking  of  now  ?  I  am 
thinking  of  thinking  that  I  am  thinking,  and  so  on. 
Reason  was  lost  in  empty  speculation. 

However,  the  philosophical  discoveries  which  I  made 
flattered  my  vanity  very  much :  I  frequently  imagined 
myself  a  great  man  who  was  discoverimg  new  truths  for 
the  good  of  mankind,  and  I  looked  upon  all  other  mortals 
with  a  proud  consciousness  of  my  dignity.  But,  strange 
to  say,  whenever  I  came  in  contact  with  these  mortals,  I 
grew  timid,  and  the  higher  I  placed  myself  in  my  own 
opinion,  the  less  I  was  able  to  express  the  consciousness 
of  my  own  dignity  before  others,  and  could  not  even  get 
accustomed  to  not  being  ashamed  of  every  simplest  word 
and  motion  of  mine. 


XX. 

VOLODYA 

Yes,  the  farther  I  advance  in  the  description  of  this 
period  of  my  hfe,  the  harder  and  the  more  painful  it  is 
getting  for  me.  Among  the  memories  of  this  time  I 
rarely,  very  rarely,  find  those  moments  of  genuine,  warm 
feeling,  which  so  brilliantly  and  constantly  illuminated 
the  beginning  of  my  life..  I  involuntarily  want  to  run 
through  the  desert  of  my  boyhood  as  fast  as  possible,  and 
to  reach  that  happy  period,  when  the  truly  tender  and 
noble  feeling  of  friendship  again  brightly  illuminated  the 
end  of  that  age,  and  laid  the  foundation  for  the  new  period 
of  youth,  full  of  poetry  and  charm. 

I  shall  not  follow  my  memories  hourly,  but  shall  cast 
a  rapid  glance  at  the  most  important  events  from  the 
time  to  which  I  have  brought  my  narrative  up  to  the 
time  of  my  association  with  an  unusual  man  who  had  a 
definite  and  beneficent  influence  upon  my  character  and 
thought. 

Volodya  was  on  the  point  of  entering  the  university. 
He  had  separate  teachers,  and  I  listened  with  envy  and 
involuntary  awe  when  he,  tapping  the  chalk  on  the  black- 
board, talked  of  functions,  sinuses,  coordinates,  and  so  on, 
which  seemed  to  me  to  be  the  expressions  of  an  inaccessi- 
ble wisdom.  One  Sunday,  after  dinner,  all  the  teachers 
and  two  professors  assembled  in  grandmother's  room,  and 
in  presence  of  some  invited  guests  rehearsed  a  university 
examination,  at  which  rehearsal  Volodya,  to  grandmother's 

223 


224  BOYHOOD 

great  delight,  showed  unusual  knowledge.  They  also 
asked  me  some  questions  in  a  few  subjects,  but  I  made 
a  very  poor  showing,  and  the  professors  were  evidently 
anxious  to  conceal  my  ignorance  from  grandmother, 
which  confused  me  even  more.  However,  they  paid  lit- 
tle attention  to  me ;  I  was  only  fifteen  years  old,  and  I 
had  another  year  yet  till  my  examination.  Volodya  came 
down-stairs  only  for  dinner,  and  passed  his  whole  days 
and  even  evenings  up-stairs  studying,  not  because  he  was 
compelled  to  do  so,  but  from  his  own  choice.  He  was 
very  vain,  and  did  not  wish  to  pass  a  mediocre,  but  an 
excellent  examination. 

At  last  the  day  for  the  first  examination  arrived.  Vo- 
lodya put  on  a  blue  dress  coat  with  brass  buttons,  a  gold 
watch,  and  lacquered  boots.  Papa's  phaeton  drove  up  to 
the  porch,  Nikolay  threw  back  the  boot,  and  Volodya 
and  St.  JerOme  drove  to  the  university.  The  girls,  espe- 
cially Katenka,  with  joyful  and  ecstatic  countenances, 
looked  through  the  window  at  the  stately  figure  of  Vo- 
lodya, as  he  seated  himself  in  the  carriage,  and  papa  said : 
"  God  grant  it,  God  grant  it !  "  and  grandmother,  who  had 
also  dragged  herself  to  the  window,  with  tears  in  her 
eyes  made  the  sign  of  the  cross  at  Volodya  until  the 
phaeton  was  lost  around  the  corner  of  the  street,  and 
even  after  that  continued  murmuring  something. 

Volodya  returned.  All  impatiently  asked  him  :  "  Well  ? 
Was  it  all  right  ?  How  much  did  you  get  ? "  It  was, 
however,  evident  from  his  looks  that  everything  had  gone 
well.  Volodya  had  received  a  five  mark.  On  the  next 
day  he  was  seen  off  with  the  same  wishes  for  success  and 
with  anxiety,  and  he  was  met  \vith  the  same  impatience 
and  joy.  Thus  nine  days  passed.  On  the  tenth  day  was 
to  be  the  last,  the  most  difficult  examination,  in  religion. 
All  stood  at  the  window,  and  awaited  him  with  even 
greater  impatience.  It  was  two  o'clock,  and  Volddya  had 
not  yet  returned. 


VOL^DYA  225 

"  0  Lord !  Dear  me  !  It  is  they !  they ! "  cried  Lyu- 
bochka,  pressing  against  the  window. 

And  there,  in  reality,  side  by  side  with  St.  Jerome,  sat 
Volddya,  but  no  longer  in  the  blue  dress  coat  and  gray 
cap,  but  in  a  student's  uniform  with  a  hand-sewn  blue 
collar,  three-cornered  hat,  and  gilt  short  sword  at  his 
side. 

"  Oh,  if  you  were  alive  ! "  cried  grandmother,  when  she 
saw  Volodya  in  his  uniform,  and  fell  into  a  swoon. 

Volodya  ran  into  the  antechamber  with  a  beaming  face 
and  kissed  and  embraced  me,  Lyiibochka,  Mimi,  and 
Katenka,  who  blushed  up  to  her  ears.  Volddya  was  be- 
side himself  with  joy.  And  how  well  he  looked  in  that 
uniform!  How  becoming  his  blue  collar  was  to  his 
sprouting  black  moustache !  What  a  long,  thin  waist  and 
noble  carriage  he  had  ! 

On  that  memorable  day  all  dined  in  grandmother's 
room.  Joy  was  in  the  faces  of  all,  and  at  dinner,  during 
dessert,  a  servant,  with  an  adequately  majestic,  yet  merry 
countenance,  brought  a  bottle  of  champagne,  wrapped  in 
a  napkin.  Grandmother,  for  the  first  time  after  mother's 
death,  drank  champagne,  emptying  a  whole  glass  as  she 
congratulated  VoLxlya,  and  again  wept  for  joy,  looking  at 
him. 

Volodya  after  that  drove  out  alone,  in  his  own  carriage, 
received  his  own  acquaintances,  smoked,  and  drove  to 
balls ;  and  I  myself  once  saw  him  drink  two  bottles  of 
champagne  with  his  acquaintances  in  his  room,  while 
with  every  glass  they  drank  the  health  of  some  myste- 
rious persons,  and  discussed  who  would  get  Ic  fond  de  la 
houteille.  Yet  he  dined  regularly  at  home,  and  after 
dinner  sat  down,  as  formerly,  in  the  sofa-room,  and  al- 
ways mysteriously  chatted  with  Katenka  about  something. 
As  much  as  I  could  make  out,  without  taking  part  in 
their  conversations,  they  were  talking  about  the  heroes 
and  heroines  of  novels  they  had  read,  about  jealousy,  and 


226  BOYHOOD 

love,  and  I  could  not  understand  what  interest  they  could 
find  in  such  discussions,  nor  why  they  smiled  so  gently 
and  discussed  so  fervently. 

I  noticed  in  general  that  between  Katenka  and  Vo- 
lodya  there  existed,  in  addition  to  the  natural  friendship 
between  companions  of  childhood,  some  other  strange 
relation,  which  removed  them  from  us,  and  mysteriously 
bound  them  together. 


XXL 

KATENKA   AND   LYtJBOCHKA 

Katenka  was  sixteen  years  old.  She  was  tall ;  her 
angularity  of  form,  her  Lashfulness  and  awkw^ardness  of 
movement,  which  are  peculiar  to  a  girl  in  her  transitional 
age,  had  given  way  to  the  harmonious  freshness  and 
gracefulness  of  a  newly  budded  flower ;  but  she  had  not 
changed.  The  same  light  blue  eyes  and  smiling  counte- 
nance ;  the  same  straight  nose,  with  its  strong  nostrils, 
forming  almost  a  line  with  her  forehead,  and  her  little 
mouth  with  its  bright  smile ;  the  same  tiny  dimples  on 
her  transparent  rosy  cheeks ;  the  same  little  white  hands, 
—  and,  for  some  reason,  her  former  name  of  a  "clean" 
girl  remarkably  fitted  her  even  then.  The  only  new 
things  were  her  thick  blond  braid,  which  she  wore  like 
grown  young  ladies,  and  her  young  breast,  the  appearance 
of  which  visibly  pleased  and  shamed  her. 

Though  Lyiibochka  had  grown  up  and  had  been 
educated  together  with  her,  she  was  in  every  respect  a 
different  girl.  Lyiibochka  was  not  tall  in  stature,  and  she 
was  bow-legged  from  early  rickets,  and  had  a  badly 
shaped  waist.  In  her  whole  figure  nothing  was  beautiful 
but  her  eyes,  and  her  eyes  were  beautiful  indeed ;  they 
were  large  and  black,  and  had  such  an  irresistibly  pleas- 
ant expression  of  dignity  and  naivet^  that  they  invariably 
arrested  the  attention.  Lyiibochka  was  simple  and  nat- 
ural in  everything,  while  Katenka,  so  it  seemed,  always 
tried  to  resemble  somebody.     Lyiibochka  always  looked 

227 


228  BOYHOOD 

straight  at  you,  aud,  at  times,  when  she  fixed  her  immense 
black  eyes  on  a  person,  she  did  not  take  them  away 
for  so  long,  that  she  was  scolded  for  being  impolite ; 
Katenka,  on  the  contrary,  lowered  her  eyelashes,  blinked, 
and  assured  people  that  she  was  near-sighted,  while  I 
knew  very  well  that  she  had  good  eyesight. 

Lyiibochka  did  not  like  to  be  demonstrative  in  the 
presence  of  strangers,  and  when  some  one  began  to  kiss 
her  before  guests,  she  pouted  and  said  that  she  could  not 
bear  "  tenderness."  Katenka,  on  the  other  hand,  grew 
particularly  affectionate  to  Mimi,  whenever  guests  were 
about,  and  was  fond  of  walking  up  and  down  the  parlour 
with  her  arms  about  some  girl.  Lyiibochka  was  a  terrible 
giggler,  and  often,  when  in  a  fit  of  laughter,  waved  her 
arms  and  ran  up  and  down  the  room ;  Katenka,  on  the 
contrary,  covered  her  mouth  with  a  handkerchief  or  with 
her  hand,  whenever  she  began  to  laugh.  Lyiibochka 
always  sat  straight,  and  walked  with  her  arms  hanging 
down ;  Katenka  held  her  head  a  little  on  one  side,  and 
walked  with  her  arms  folded. 

Lyiibochka  was  always  exceedingly  happy  whenever 
she  had  a  chance  to  talk  to  a  very  tall  man,  and  she  used 
to  say  that  she  would  marry  nobody  but  a  hussar ; 
Katenka,  however,  said  that  all  men  were  equally  distaste- 
ful to  her  and  that  she  would  never  marry,  and  she  acted, 
eVery  time  she  spoke  with  a  man,  like  an  entirely  different 
person,  as  though  she  was  afraid  of  something.  Lyiibochka 
always  quarrelled  with  Mimi  for  lacing  her  corsets  so 
tightly  that  it  was  impossible  to  breathe,  and  was  fond 
of  something  good  to  eat ;  Katenka,  on  the  contrary, 
frequently  put  her  finger  under  the  band  of  her  skirt,  to 
show  us  how  loose  it  was,  and  she  ate  very  little.  Lyii- 
bochka was  fond  of  drawing  heads,  while  Katenka  drew 
only  flowers  and  butterflies.  Lyiibochka  played  with 
great  clearness  Field's  concerts  and  a  few  sonatas  of 
Beethoven ;  Katenka  played  variations  and  waltzes,  re- 


KATENKA  AND  LYUBOCHKA        229 

tarded  the  tempo,  banged,  continually  took  the  pedal,  and, 
before  starting  uut  to  play,  feelingly  took  three  chords 
arpeggio. 

But  Kateuka,  as  I  then  used   to  think,  resembled  a 
grown  woman  more,  and  therefore  she  pleased  me  more. 


I 


XXII. 

PAPA 

Papa  had  been  unusually  happy  ever  since  Volodya 
entered  the  university,  and  came  more  frequently  than 
was  his  custom  to  dine  with  grandmother.  However, 
his  happiness,  as  I  found  out  from  Nikolay,  was  caused 
by  his  unusually  great  winnings.  It  even  happened  that 
he  came  to  see  us  in  the  evening,  before  going  to  his  club ; 
he  then  seated  himself  at  the  piano^  gathered  us  all  about 
him,  and,  tapping  with  his  soft  boots  (he  could  not  bear 
heels,  which  he  never  wore),  sang  gipsy  songs.  It  was 
then  a  sight  to  see  the  ridiculous  ecstasy  of  his  favourite, 
Lyubocldva,  who  simply  worshipped  him.  At  times  he 
came  to  tlie  class-room  and  listened  with  austere  face  to 
the  recital  of  my  lessons,  but  by  the  few  words  which  he 
employed  in  order  to  correct  me  I  noticed  that  he  did  not 
know  the  subjects  well  in  which  I  was  being  instructed. 
At  times  he  stealthily  winked  at  us  and  made  signs  to  us, 
when  grandmother  began  to  growl  and  scold  everybody 
without  cause.  "  Well,  we  did  catch  it,  children  ! "  he 
would  say  afterward.  In  general,  he  came  down  in  my 
opinion,  from  that  inaccessible  height  where  my  childish 
imagination  had  placed  liim.  I  kissed  his  large  white 
hand  with  the  same  genuine  feeling  of  love  and  respect, 
but  I  took  the  liberty  of  deliberating  about  him,  and 
judging  his  acts,  and  I  was  involuntarily  surprised  by 
thoughts  that  frightened  me.     I  shall  never  forget  the 

230 


PAPA  231 

occasion  that  inspired  me  with  many  such  thoughts  and 
afforded  me  much  moral  suffering. 

Late  one  evening  he  entered  the  sitting-room  in  his 
black  dress  coat  and  white  vest,  to  take  Volodya,  who 
was  dressing  at  that  time  in  his  room,  to  a  ball.  Grand- 
mother was  waiting  in  her  chamber  for  Volodya  to  appear 
before  her,  for  she  was  in  the  habit  of  calling  him  up 
before  every  ball,  to  bless  him,  look  him  over,  and  give 
him  instructions.  In  the  parlour,  which  was  lighted  only 
by  one  lamp,  Mimi  and  Katenka  paced  up  and  down, 
while  Lyiibochka  sat  at  the  piano  and  studied  Field's 
second  concert,  mamma's  favourite  piece. 

I  have  never  seen  such  a  family  resemblance  as  existed 
between  sister  and  mother.  This  resemblance  did  not 
consist  in  the  face,  nor  in  the  whole  figure,  but  in  some- 
thing intangible :  in  the  hands,  in  the  manner  of  walking, 
but  especially  in  the  voice  and  in  certain  expressions. 
When  Lyubochka  was  angry  and  said :  "  They  keep  me 
my  whole  life,"  she  pronounced  these  words  "  my  wdiole 
life,"  which  mamma,  too,  was  in  the  habit  of  using,  in 
such  a  manner,  somewhat  protracted,  like  "  my  w^ho-o-le 
life,"  that  I  thought  I  heard  mamma  ;  but  most  striking 
was  the  resemblance  in  her  playing,  and  in  all  her  attitudes 
at  the  piano :  she  arranged  her  dress  in  the  same  way,  in 
the  same  way  turned  the  pages  with  her  left  hand,  in  the 
same  way  struck  the  keys  with  her  fist,  when  she  was 
angry  because  she  did  not  succeed  in  playing  smoothly  a 
difficult  passage,  and  said :  "  O  Lord,"  and  there  was  the 
same  inimitable  tenderness  and  clearness  of  expression, 
that  beautiful  expression  of  Field's,  which  is  so  appro- 
priately called  jeu  perlS,  the  charm  of  which  all  the  hocus- 
pocus  of  the  modern  pianists  has  not  been  able  to 
obliterate. 

Papa  entered  the  room  with  rapid,  mincing  steps,  and 
walked  up  to  Lyubochka,  who  stopped  playing  the 
moment  she  noticed  him. 


232  BOYHOOD 

"  No,  keep  ou,  Lyiibochka,  keep  on ! "  he  said,  seating 
her  on  the  stool,  "  you  know  how  I  like  to  hear  you." 

Lyubochka  continued  to  play,  and  papa  sat  long  oppo- 
site her,  leaning  ou  his  arm ;  then  he  suddenly  jerked 
his  shoulder,  rose  from  his  chair,  and  began  to  pace  the 
room.  Every  time  he  came  near  the  piano,  he  stopped 
and  gazed  long  and  fixedly  at  Lyubochka.  I  observed 
by  his  movements  and  gait  that  he  was  agitated.  After 
crossing  the  parlour  several  times,  he  stopped  behind 
Lyiibochka's  seat  and  kissed  her  black  hair,  then  he 
rapidly  turned  about,  and  continued  to  pace  the  room. 
When  Lyubochka  had  finished  her  playing  and  walked 
up  to  him  with  the  question  :  "  Was  it  all  right  ? "  he 
silently  took  her  head  and  began  to  kiss  her  brow  and 
eyes  with  a  tenderness  I  had  never  seen  in  him  before. 

"  0  Lord,  you  are  weeping  !  "  stfddenly  said  Lyubochka, 
letting  the  chain  of  his  watch  slip  out  of  her  hands,  and 
fixing  her  large,  wondering  eyes  upon  his  face.  "  Forgive 
me,  darling  father,  I  forgot  entirely  that  it  was  mother's 
piece," 

"  Not  at  all,  my  dear  girl,  play  it  often,"  he  said  in  a 
voice  quiveriug  with  emotion ;  "  if  you  only  knew  how 
much  good  it  does  me  to  weep  with  you ! " 

He  kissed  her  once  more  and,  trying  to  overcome 
his  inward  agitation,  went,  with  a  jerk  of  his  shoulder, 
through  the  door  that  led  over  the  corridor  to  Volodya's 
room. 

"  Vdldemar !  Shall  you  be  ready  soon  ? "  he  called 
out,  stopping  in  the  middle  of  the  corridor.  Just  then 
chambermaid  Masha  passed  by  him.  When  she  saw  her 
master,  she  lowered  her  eyes  and  wanted  to  make  a 
circuit  round  him.  He  stopped  her.  "  You  are  getting 
prettier  all  the  time,"  he  said,  leaning  down  to  her. 

M^sha  blushed,  and  lowered  her  head  still  more. 
"  Allow   me,"  she  whispered. 

"Vdldemar,  will  it  be  long?"  papa  repeated,  shrugging 


PAPA  233 

his  shoulder  and  coughing,  when  Masha  had  passed  by 
him,  and  he  saw  me. 

-I  loved  my  father,  but  a  man's  mind  lives  independ- 
ently from  his  heart,  and  frequently  harbours  incompre- 
hensible and  cruel  thoughts  which  offend  his  feelings. 
Such  thoughts  came  to  me,  though  I  endeavoured  to 
remove  them. 


XXIII. 

GRANDMOTHEK 

Gkandmother  grew  weaker  from  day  to  day.  Her 
bell,  the  voice  of  gruff  Gasha,  and  the  slamming  of  the 
doors  were  heard  with  increasing  frequency  in  her  room, 
and  she  no  longer  received  us  in  her  cabinet,  seated  in 
her  armchair,  but  in  her  chamber,  lying  upon  a  high  bed 
with  lace-covered  pillows.  When  I  greeted  her,  I  noticed 
a  hght  yellow  shining  swelling  on  her  hand,  and  in  the 
room  was  a  heavy  odour,  such  as  I  had  smelled  five  years 
before  in  mother's  room.  The  doctor  called  upon  her 
three  times  a  day,  and  several  consultations  had  taken 
place.  But  her  character,  her  proud,  ceremonious  treat- 
ment of  all  the  people  of  the  house,  especially  of  papa, 
had  not  changed  in  the  least.  She  stretched  her  words 
as  before,  and  raised  her  brows  and  said :  "  My  dear  !  " 

We  had  not  been  admitted  to  her  presence  for  several 
days,  when  one  morning  St.  Jt^rOme  proposed  to  me  dur- 
ing class  hours  that  I  should  go  out  driving  with  Lyvi- 
bochka  and  Katenka.  Though,  while  seating  myself  in 
the  sleigh,  I  noticed  that  the  street  was  covered  with 
straw  under  grandmother's  windows,  and  that  some 
strange  people  in  blue  cloaks  were  standing  near  our  gate, 
I  could  not  make  out  why  we  were  sent  out  driving  at 
such  an  inauspicious  hour.  On  that  day,  and  during  the 
drive,  Lyiibochka  and  I  were,  for  some  reason,  in  that 
unusually  happy  frame  of  mind  when  every  incident, 
every  word,  every  motion  caused  us  to  laugh. 

234 


GRANDMOTHER  235 

A  peddler  trotted  across  the  road  clutching  his  tray,  — 
and  we  laughed.  A  ragged  Jehu,  waving  the  ends  of  his 
Knes,  in  a  gallop  caught  up  with  our  sleigh,  —  and  we 
laughed.  Filipp's  whip  caught  in  the  runner  of  the 
sleigh ;  he  turned  around  and  called  out,  "  The  deuce ! " 
and  we  roared  with  laughter.  JViimi  said,  with  a  dis- 
satisfied look,  that  only  stupid  people  laughed  without 
cause,  and  Lyiibochka,  red  with  exertion  from  a  subdued 
laugh,  looked  at  me  stealthily.  Our  eyes  met,  and  we 
burst  into  such  a  Homeric  laugh,  that  tears  stood 
in  our  eyes,  and  we  were  unable  to  restrain  the  torrent 
of  laughter  which  was  choking  us.  No  sooner  had  we 
quieted  down  a  little,  than  I  looked  at  Lyiibochka  and 
pronounced  the  secret  word  which  had  been  current 
among  us  for  some  time  and  which  invariably  produced 
laughter,  and  we  roared  again. 

Just  as  we  were  reaching  home,  I  opened  my  mouth  to 
make  a  face  at  Lyiibochka,  when  my  eyes  were  struck  by 
the  lid  of  a  black  coffin,  which  was  leaning  against  the 
wing  of  the  entrance  door,  and  my  mouth  remained  in  its 
contorted  position. 

"  Votre  grmiiVmere  est  mortc  ! "  said  St.  J^r6me  with 
a  pale  face,  coming  out  to  meet  us. 

During  all  the  time  that  grandmother's  body  remained 
in  the  house,  I  experienced  the  heavy  feeling  of  the  terror 
of  death ;  that  is,  the  dead  body  vividly  and  unpleasantly 
reminded  me  of  the  fact  that  I  should  die  some  day,  —  a 
feeling  which,  for  some  reason,  is  confounded  with  grief. 
I  did  not  regret  grandmother,  and  I  doubt  if  any  one 
sincerely  regretted  her.  Though  the  house  was  full  of 
mourning  visitors,  nobody  regretted  her  death,  except  one 
person,  whose  unbounded  grief  amazed  me  inexpressibly. 
That  person  was  chambermaid  Gasha.  She  went  to  the 
garret,  locked  herself  up  there,  and,  without  ceasing  to 
weep,  cursed  herself,  tore  her  hair,  would  not  listen  to  any 
consolation,  and  kept  on  saying  that  her  own  death  would 


236  BOYHOOD 

be  her  ouly  consolation  after  the  death  of  her  beloved 
mistress. 

1  again  repeat  that  improbability  in  matters  of  feeling 
is  the  surest  token  of  truth. 

Grandmother  was  no  more,  but  the  memories  of  her 
and  the  various  discussions  about  her  were  still  living  in 
our  house.  These  discussions  referred  especially  to  the 
will  which  she  had  made  before  her  demise,  and  which 
nobody  knew,  except  her  executor,  Prince  Ivan  Ivanovich. 
I  noticed  a  certain  agitation  among  the  servants  of  grand- 
mother, and  there  were  frequent  conversations  about 
what  each  could  expect,  and,  I  must  confess,  I  involun- 
tarily thought  with  pleasure  of  our  getting  an  inheritance. 

Six  weeks  later,  Nikolay  —  the  daily  gazette  of  the 
news  of  our  house  —  told  me  that  grandmother  had  left 
her  whole  estate  to  Lyiibochka,  leaving  the  guardianship 
up  to  her  marriage  pot  to  papa,  but  to  Prince  Ivan  Ivano- 
vich. 


XXIV. 


But  a  few  months  were  left  before  my  entering  the 
university.  I  studied  well.  I  not  only  waited  for  my 
teachers  without  fear,  but  even  experienced  a  certain 
pleasure  in  my  class  work. 

I  felt  happy  whenever  I  recited  my  lesson  clearly  and 
distinctly.  I  was  preparing  for  the  mathematical  faculty  ; 
which  selection,  to  tell  the  truth,  I  made  only  because 
the  words  sinus,  tangent,  differential,  integral,  and  so  on, 
pleased  me  very  much. 

I  was  much  smaller  than  Volodya,  broad-shouldered 
and  flabby,  and  as  homely  as  ever,  which  worried  me,  as 
before.  I  tried  to  appear  original.  One  thing  consoled 
me :  namely,  that  papa  had  said  about  me  that  I  had  a 
"  clever  phiz,"  and  I  firmly  believed  it. 

St.  Jerome  was  satisfied  with  me  and  praised  me,  and 
I  not  only  did  not  hate  him,  but  it  even  seemed  to  me 
that  I  loved  him  when  he  said  that  with  my  abihty,  with 
my  mind,  it  would  be  a  shame  if  I  did  not  accomplish 
this  or  that. 

My  observations  in  the  maids'  chamber  had  ceased 
long  ago,  for  I  felt  ashamed  to  conceal  myself  behind  the 
door,  and,  besides,  my  conviction  of  Masha's  and  Vasili's 
love  had,  I  must  say,  somewhat  cooled  me  off.  I  was 
completely  cured  of  this  unfortunate  passion  by  Vasili's 
marriage,  for  which,  at  Vasili's  request,  I  asked  papa's 
permission. 

237 


238  BOYHOOD 

When  the  newly  married  couple  came,  with  candy  on  a 
tray,  to  tliank  papa,  and  when  Masha,  in  a  cap  with  blue 
ribbons,  thanked  us  all  for  something,  kissing  each  of  us 
on  the  shoulder,  I  smelled  only  the  perfume  of  rose  po- 
matum on  her  hair,  and  did  not  feel  the  least  emotion. 

I  began  to  be  cured  altogether  of  my  boyish  faults,  ex- 
cept the  chief  fault,  which  was  to  cause  me  no  end  of 
trouble  in  my  life,  —  the  tendency  to  philosophize. 


XXV. 

volodya's  feiends 

Although  I  played  in  the  company  of  Volodya's  ac- 
quaintances  a  part  which  offended  my  vanity,  I  liked  to 
sit  in  his  room,  when  he  had  guests,  and  in  silence  to 
observe  everything  that  took  place  there.  His  most  fre- 
quent visitors  were  Adjutant  Dubkov  and  Prince  Nekh- 
lyiidov,  a  student.  Dubkov,  who  had  passed  his  first 
youth,  was  a  small,  muscular  fellow,  of  dark  complexion. 
He  had  rather  short  legs,  but  was  not  bad-looking,  and 
was  always  jolly.  He  was  one  of  those  narrow-minded 
men  who  please  on  account  of  their  very  narrow-minded- 
ness, who  are  not  able  to  see  objects  from  various  sides, 
and  who  are  eternally  cariied  away  by  something.  The 
reasoning  of  such  people  is  one-sided  and  faulty,  but 
always  open-hearted  and  persuasive.  Even  their  narrow 
egotism  somehow  appears  pardonable  and  attractive.  In 
addition,  Dubkov  had  a  double  charm  for  Volodya  and 
me,  that  of  his  military  appearance  and,  chiefly,  of  age, 
which  young  people  are  in  the  habit  of  mistaking  for 
decency  (comme  il  faut),  which  is  highly  valued  in  these 
years.  And,  indeed,  Dubkov  was  what  one  calls  "  un 
homme  comme  il  faut."  One  thing  displeased  me,  and 
that  was  that  Volodya  seemed  to  be  ashamed  before  him 
for  all  my  innocent  acts,  but  more  especially  for  my 
youth. 

Nekhlyudov  was  not  good-looking:  his  small,  gray  eyes, 
low,  straight    forehead,  disprctportionate  arms    and    legs 

239 


240  BOYHOOD 

could  not  be  regarded  as  beautiful  features.  His  redeem- 
ing features  were  his  very  tall  stature,  soft  complexion, 
and  beautiful  teeth.  But  his  face  assumed  such  an  origi- 
nal and  energetic  character  from  his  narrow,  glistening 
eyes  and  changeable,  now  severe,  now  childishly  indefinite 
smile,  that  one  could  not  fail  to  take  notice  of  him. 

He  seemed  to  be  very  bashful,  because  every  trifle 
made  him  blush  to  his  ears ;  but  his  bashfulness  was  dif- 
ferent from  mine.  The  more  he  blushed,  the  more  deter- 
mination his  face  expressed,  as  though  he  was  angry  at 
his  own  weakness. 

Though  he  appeared  to  be  very  friendly  with  Dubkov 
and  Volodya,  it  was  evident  that  only  chance  had  brought 
them  together.  Their  views  were  quite  different :  Dubkov 
and  Volodya  avoided  everytliing  that  resembled  serious 
discussion  and  sentimentality ;  Nekhlyudov,  on  the  con- 
trary, was  an  enthusiast  m  the  highest  degree,  and  in 
spite  of  ridicule,  often  entered  into  the  discussion  of 
philosophical  questions  and  of  sentiments.  Volodya  and 
Dubkov  were  fond  of  talking  of  the  objects  of  their  love 
(they  were  generally  in  love  with  several  women  at  the 
same  time  and  both  with  the  same  woman) ;  Nekhlyudov, 
on  the  contrary,  was  always  seriously  angiy  when  they 
hinted  of  his  love  for  a  red-haired  girl. 

Volodya  and  Dubkov  often  allowed  themselves  to  speak 
hghtly  of  their  relatives ;  Nekhlyudov,  on  the  contrary, 
was  beside  himself  with  anger  at  any  unfavourable  refer- 
ence to  his  aunt,  for  whom  he  felt  an  ecstatic  adoration. 
Volodya  and  Dubkov  drove  away  after  supper  without 
Nekhlyudov,  whom  they  called  a  "  blushing  maiden." 

I  was  struck  from  the  start  by  Nekhlyudov,  both  on 
account  of  his  conversation  and  his  looks.  Yet,  in  spite 
of  the  fact  that  I  found  many  common  points  in  our 
views,  or,  maybe,  on  account  of  it,  —  the  feeling  with 
which  he  inspired  me  when  I  first  saw  him  was  far  from 
friendly. 


volodya's   friends  241 

I  did  not  like  his  rapid  glance,  firm  voice,  haughty- 
mien,  but,  above  all,  the  complete  indifference  which  he 
showed  me.  I  often  felt  dreadfuUy  like  contradicting 
him,  when  he  was  talldug ;  I  wished  to  dispute  with  him, 
to  punish  him  for  his  haughtiness,  and  to  prove  to 
him  that  I  was  sensible,  even  though  he  did  not  wish 
to  pay  the  least  attention  to  me.  My  bashfulness  kept 
me  back. 


XXVI. 

EEFLECTIONS 

VoLODYA  was  lying  with  his  feet  on  a  sofa,  and  leaning 
on  his  arm,  was  reading  some  French  novel,  when  I,  after 
my  evening  classes,  entered  Ms  room,  as  usual.  He  lifted 
his  head  for  a  second  to  look  at  me,  and  again  turned  to 
his  reading,  —  a  very  simple  and  natural  movement,  but 
it  made  me  blush.  It  seemed  to  me  that  in  his  glance 
was  expressed  the  question  why  I  had  come  there,  and 
that  in  the  rapid  inclination  of  his  head  was  manifested  a 
desire  of  concealing  from  me  the  meaning  of  that  glance. 
This  tendency  to  give  a  meaning  to  the  simplest  motion 
was  a  characteristic  of  mine  at  that  period.  I  went  up 
to  the  table  and  picked  up  a  book ;  but  before  I  began  to 
read  it,  it  occurred  to  me  that  it  was  too  ridiculous  that, 
not  having  seen  each  other  for  a  whole  day,  we  should 
exchange  no  words. 

"  Shall  you  be  at  home  this  evening  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  know.     Why  ? " 

"  Nothing,"  I  said,  and  noticing  that  there  was  a  hitch 
in  the  conversation,  I  took  the  book  and  began  to  read. 

Oddly  enough,  Volodya  and  I  passed  whole  hours  in 
silence,  when  face  to  face  with  each  other,  but  the  pres- 
ence of  a  third,  even  silent,  person,  was  sufficient  to  make 
us  enter  into  most  interesting  and  varied  conversations. 
We  felt  tliat  we  knew  each  other  too  well,  and  to  know 
each  other  too  much  or  too  little  is  equally  unfavourable 
for  a  close  communion. 

242 


REFLECTIONS  243 

"  Is  Volddya  at  home  ? "  was  heard  Dubkov's  voice  in 
the  antechamber. 

"  Yes,"  said  A^olddya,  taking  down  his  legs  and  placing 
his  book  on  the  table. 

Dubkov  and  Nekhlyiidov,  dressed  in  their  overcoats 
and  hats,  entered  the  room. 

"  Well,  Volddya,  shall  we  drive  to  the  theatre  ?  " 

"  No,  I  have  no  time,"  said  Volddya,  blushing. 

"  Don't  say  that !     Come,  let  us  go ! " 

"  I  have  not  even  a  ticket." 

"  You  may  get  all  the  tickets  you  want  at  the  entrance." 

"  Wait,  I  shall  be  back  in  a  moment,"  Volddya  said 
evasively,  and,  jerking  his  shoulder,  left  the  room. 

I  knew  that  Volddya  wanted  very  much  to  go  to  the 
theatre,  to  which  Dubkdv  had  invited  him,  that  he  de- 
clined only  becaiise  he  had  no  money,  and  that  he  went 
out  to  borrow  five  roubles  of  the  steward  against  his  next 
allowance. 

"  Good  evenmg,  diplomat ! "  Dubkdv  said  to  me,  giving 
me  his  hand. 

Volddya's  friends  called  me  diplomat,  because  once  at 
dinner  grandmother,  who  was  talking  of  our  future,  said, 
in  their  presence,  that  Volddya  would  be  a  soldier,  and 
that  she  hoped  to  see  me  in  the  diplomatic  service  in  a 
black  dress  coat  and  with  my  hair  combed  a  la  coq, 
which,  in  her  opinion,  were  the  necessary  conditions  for 
a  diplomatic  calling. 

"  Where  has  Volddya  gone  ? "  Nekhlyiidov  asked  me. 

"  I  do  not  know,"  I  answered,  blushing  at  the  thought 
that  they,  no  doubt,  guessed  the  cause  of  Volddya's  leaving. 

"  I  suppose  he  has  no  money.  Am  I  right  ?  0  diplo- 
mat ! "  he  added  affirmatively,  as  he  explained  my  smile. 
"  I  have  not  any  money,  either.  And  have  you  any, 
Dubkdv  ? " 

"  Let  us  see,"  said  Dubkdv,  taking  out  his  purse  and 
very  carefully  feeling  a  few  small  coins  with  his  short 


244  BOYHOOD 

fingers.  "Here  is  a  five-lcopek  piece,  here  is  a  twenty- 
kopek  piece,  and  then  fffu ! "  he  said,  making  a  comic 
gesture  with  his  hand. 

Volodya  entered  the  room. 

"  Well,  are  we  going  ? " 

"  No." 

"  How  funny  you  are  !  "  said  Nekhlyiidov.  "  Why  did 
you  not  tell  us  that  you  had  no  money  ?  Take  my  ticket 
if  you  wish  ! " 

"  And  how  about  you  ?  " 

"  He  will  go  to  the  box  of  his  cousins,"  said  Dubk^v. 

"  No,  I  shall  not  go  at  all." 

"  Why  ? " 

"  Because,  as  you  know,  I  do  not  like  to  stay  in  a  box." 

"  Why  ? " 

"  I  do  not  like  it ;  I  do  not  feel  at  ease." 

"  The  old  story !  I  can't  understand  why  you  should 
feel  ill  at  ease,  where  everybody  lilvcs  to  see  you.  It  is 
ridiculous,  mon  cher." 

"  What  is  to  be  done,  si  jc  suis  timide  ?  I  am  sure 
you  have  never  blushed  in  all  your  life,  but  I  do,  for  the 
merest  trifle ! "  he  said,  blushing. 

"  Savez  vous  d'oil  vicnt  voire  timiditc  ?  Uun  exces 
d'amour  jpro-pre,  mon  clicr"  said  Dubkov,  in  a  con- 
descending tone. 

"  Where  does  the  cxces  d'amour  jpropre  come  in  ? " 
answered  Nekhlyiidov,  touched  to  the  quick.  "  On  the 
contrary,  I  am  timid  because  I  have  too  little  amour 
propre ;  it  always  seems  to  me  that  people  must  feel 
tired  and  annoyed  in  my  presence  —  that's  why." 

"  Dress  yourself,  Volodya ! "  said  Dubkov,  taking  him 
by  his  shoulder,  and  pulling  off  his  coat.  "  Ignat,  your 
master  wants  to  dress  ! " 

"That's  wliy  I  often  feel  — "  continued  Nekhlyudov. 

But  Dulfkov  did  not  listen  to  him.  "  Tra-la-ta-ra-ra-la- 
la,"  he  sang  out  some  air. 


REFLECTIONS  245 

"  You  can't  get  rid  of  me,"  said  Nekhlyiklov.  "  I'll 
prove  to  you  that  bash  fulness  originates  from  anything 
but  egoism." 

"  You  may  prove  it  when  we  are  out  driving." 

"  I  told  you  I  was  not  going  with  you." 

"  Well,  then,  stay  here  and  prove  it  to  the  diplomat ; 
he  will  tell  it  to  us  when  we  return." 

"  I  will  prove  it,"  replied  Nekhlyiidov  with  childish 
stubbornness,  "  only  come  back  as  soon  as  possible." 

"  Do  you  think  I  am  egoistic  ? "  he  said,  sitting  down 
near  me. 

Although  I  had  made  up  my  mind  in  regard  to  this,  I 
became  so  timid  from  this  sudden  question  that  it  was 
some  time  before  I  could  answer  him. 

"  I  think  you  are,"  I  said,  feeling  my  voice  tremble, 
and  my  face  flush  at  the  thought  that  the  time  had  come 
to  prove  to  him  that  I  was  a  man  of  sense.  "  1  think 
that  every  man  is  egoistic,  and  that  all  a  man  does  he  does 
through  egoism." 

"  What,  then,  in  your  opinion,  is  egoism  ? "  said  Nekh- 
lyiidov, smiling  rather  contemptuously,  as  I  thought. 

"  Egoism,"  I  said,  "  is  the  conviction  that  I  am  better 
and  wiser  than  all  men." 

"  But  how  can  all  be  convinced  of  this  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  know  whether  it  is  just  or  not,  only  nobody 
acknowledges  it  but  me.  I  am  convinced  that  I  am  wiser 
than  anybody  in  the  world,  and  I  am  convinced  that 
you,  too,  have  the  same  conviction  as  regards  yourself." 

"  No,  I  must  say  for  ray  own  part  that  I  have  met 
people  whom  I  have  acknowledged  to  be  wiser  than  I  am," 
said  Nekhlyiidov. 

"  It  is  impossible,"  I  answered  with  conviction. 

"  Do  you  really  think  so  ? "  said  Nekhlyiidov,  looking 
fixedly  at  me. 

"  In  all  earnest,"  I  answered. 

And  suddenly  a  thought  struck  me,  which  I  at  once 


246  BOYHOOD 

expressed :  "  I  shall  prove  it  to  you.  Why  do  we  love 
ourselves  more  than  others  ?  Because  we  regard  ourselves 
better  than  others,  and  more  worthy  of  love.  If  we  found 
others  to  be  better  than  we  are,  we  should  love  them 
better  than  ourselves,  but  this  never  happens.  And  if  it 
does  happen,  I  am  still  right,"  I  added  with  an  involuntary 
smile  of  self-satisfaction. 

Nekhlyiidov  was  silent  for  moment. 

"  I  never  imagined  you  were  such  a  clever  fellow  ! "  he 
said  to  me,  with  so  kindly,  good-hearted  a  smile  that  it 
suddenly  seemed  to  me  that  I  was  exceedingly  happy. 

Praise  acts  so  powerfully  not  only  on  the  feelings,  but 
also  on  the  reason  of  a  man,  that  under  its  pleasant 
influence  I  thought  that  I  had  become  much  wiser,  and 
ideas  one  after  another  crowded  into  my  head  with  unusual 
rapidity.  From  egoism  we  passed  to  love,  and  the  con- 
versation upon  that  theme  seemed  inexhaustible.  Though 
to  an  outsider  these  reflections  might  have  appeared  as 
the  merest  rubbish,  —  they  were  so  obscure  and  one-sided, 
—  they  were  of  high  importance  to  us.  Our  souls  were 
attuned  in  the  same  key,  so  that  the  least  touch  of  any 
one  string  found  an  echo  in  the  other.  We  had  pleasure 
in  this  very  responsiveness  of  the  various  strings  which 
we  touched  in  our  conversation.  It  seemed  to  us  that 
we  lacked  words  and  time  to  express  to  each  other  our 
thoughts,  that  begged  for  recognition. 


XXVII. 

THE   BEGINNING   OF   THE   FRIENDSHIP 

Since  then  sufficiently  strange,  but  exceedingly  pleasant 
relations  established  themselves  between  me  and  Dmitri 
Nekhlyudov.  In  the  presence  of  other  people  he  paid 
almost  no  attention  to  me ;  but  the  moment  we  happened 
to  be  alone,  we  seated  ourselves  in  a  cosy  corner,  and 
began  to  philosophize,  forgetting  everything  and  not  notic- 
ing how  time  flew. 

We  discussed  the  future  life,  art,  government  service, 
marriage,  education  of  children,  and  it  never  occurred  to 
us  that  all  we  were  saying  was  the  most  terrible  nonsense. 
This  did  not  occur  to  us,  because  the  nonsense  we  were 
talking  was  wise  and  agreeable  nonsense ;  and  in  youth 
we  still  value  reason,  and  believe  in  it.  In  youth  all  the 
powers  of  the  soul  are  directed  to  the  future,  and  this 
future  assumes,  under  the  influence  of  hope,  which  is  based, 
not  on  the  experience  of  the  past,  but  on  an  imaginary 
possibility  of  happiness,  such  varied,  living,  and  enchanting 
forms,  that  the  mere  conceived  and  imparted  dreams  of  a 
future  happiness  constitute  the  genuine  happiness  of  that 
age.  In  the  metaphysical  discussions,  which  formed  one 
of  the  chief  subjects  of  our  conversations,  I  liked  that 
minute  when  the  thoughts  followed  each  other  faster  and 
faster  and,  becoming  ever  more  abstract,  finally  reached 
such  a  degi-ee  of  mistiness  that  I  uo  longer  saw  any 
possibility  of  expressing  them,  and,  trying  to  say  what  I 
thought,  said  something  entirely  different.     I  liked  that 

247 


248  BOYHOOD 

niiuute  when,  rising  ever  higher  in  the  sphere  of  thought, 
I  suddenly  grasped  all  its  immeasurableness,  and  became 
conscious  of  the  impossibility  of  going  any  farther. 

Once,  during  the  Butter-Week,  Nekhlyudov  was  so 
busy  with  all  kinds  of  pleasures  that,  though  he  called 
several  times  a  day  at  our  house,  he  did  not  once  speak 
to  me,  and  this  so  offended  me  that  I  again  thought  of 
him  as  a  haughty  and  disagreeable  man.  I  only  waited 
for  an  opportunity  to  show  him  that  I  did  not  in  the  least 
value  his  society,  and  did  not  have  any  particular  attach- 
ment for  him. 

When  he  wanted  to  talk  to  me  for  the  first  time,  after 
the  Butter- Week,  I  told  him  that  I  had  to  prepare  my 
lessons,  and  went  up-stairs ;  but  fifteen  minutes  later  some- 
body opened  the  door  of  the  class-room,  and  Nekhlyiidov 
came  up  to  me. 

"  Am  I  disturbing  you  ? "  he  said. 

'"  No,"  I  answered,  though  I  had  intended  to  show  him 
that  I  really  was  busy. 

"  Then  why  did  you  go  away  from  Volodya's  room  ? 
We  have  not  philosophized  for  quite  awhile.  And  I  am 
so  used  to  it,  that  I  feel  as  though  something  were 
wanting." 

My  annoyance  passed  away  in  a  minute,  and  Dmitri 
again  became  in  my  eyes  the  good  and  dear  man  he  was. 

"  You,  no  doubt,  know  why  I  went  out,"  said  I. 

"  Perhaps,"  he  answered,  seating  himself  near  me. 
"  But  if  I  do  guess  it,  I  caimot  tell  you,  tliough  yuu  may 
tell  me,"  he  said. 

"  I  will  tell  you.  I  went  away  because  I  was  angry 
with  you  —  not  angry,  but  I  was  annoyed.  I  am 
simply  always  afraid  that  you  despise  me  because  I  am 
so  young." 

"  Do  you  know  why  we  liave  become  so  friendly  ? "  he 
said,  answering  my  confession  with  a  wise,  kindly  smile, 
"  why  I  love  you  more  than  people  with  whom  I  am 


THE    BEGINNING    OF    THE    FKIENDSHIP        249 

better  acquainted,  aud  with  whom  I  have  more  in 
common  ?  I  have  just  solved  it.  You  have  a  remarkable, 
rare  quality  —  sincerity." 

"  Yes,  I  always  say  those  things  which  I  am  ashamed 
to  confess,"  I  confirmed  him^  "  but  only  to  those  of  whom 
I  am  sure." 

"  Yes.  But  to  be  sure  of  a  man,  one  must  be  friends 
with  him,  but  we  are  not  yet  friends,  Nicolas.  You 
remember  we  said  of  friendship  that,  in  order  to  be  true 
friends,  each  must  be  sure  of  the  other." 

"  Sure  that  you  will  not  tell  anybody  what  I  tell 
you,"  I  said.  "  And  the  most  important  and  interesting 
thoughts  are  those  which  we  would  not  tell  each  other  for 
anything.  And  mean  thoughts,  —  contemptible  thoughts 
would  never  dare  to  enter  our  minds,  if  we  knew  that  we 
had  to  confess  them." 

"  Do  you  know  what  idea  has  struck  me,  Nicolas  ? "  he 
added,  rising  from  his  chair,  and  rubbing  his  hands  with 
a  smile.  "  Let  us  do  it,  and  you  will  see  how  useful  it  will 
be  to  both  of  us :  let  us  promise  to  confess  everything  to 
each  other  !  We  shall  know  each  other,  and  we  shall  have 
no  scruples ;  and,  not  to  be  afraid  of  outsiders,  let  us 
promise  never  to  mention  each  other  to  anybody,  at  any 
time  !     Let  us  do  it ! " 

"  All  right,"  I  said. 

And  we  really  did  it.  I  shall  tell  you  later  what  came 
of  it. 

Karr  has  said  that  in  every  attachment  there  are  two 
sides :  one  loves,  the  other  allows  itself  to  be  loved ;  one 
kisses,  the  other  submits  its  cheek.  That  is  quite  true. 
In  our  friendship,  I  kissed,  and  Dmitri  submitted  his 
cheek ;  but  he,  too,  was  ready  to  kiss  me.  We  loved 
equally,  because  we  knew  and  esteemed  each  other ;  but 
this  did  not  prevent  his  exerting  an  influence  upon  me, 
and  my  submitting  to  him. 

Of  course,  under  the  influence  of  Nekhlyudov  I  invol- 


250  BOYHOOD 

untarily  appropriated  his  point  of  view,  the  essence  of 
which  was  an  ecstatic  worship  of  the  ideal  of  virtue,  and 
the  conviction  that  a  man's  destiny  is  continually  to  per- 
fect himself.  At  that  time  it  seemed  a  practicable  affair 
to  correct  humanity  at  large,  to  destroy  all  human  vices 
and  misfortunes,  —  and,  therefore,  it  looked  easy  and 
simple  to  correct  oneself,  to  appropriate  to  oneself  all  vir- 
tues and  be  happy. 

Still,  God  alone  knows  whether  these  noble  dreams  of 
youth  were  ridiculous,  and  who  is  to  blame  that  they 
were  not  realized. 


YOUTH 

A  Novel 
1855-57 


YOUTH 


I. 

WHAT  I   REGARD   AS   THE    BEGINNING   OF   MY   YOUTH 

I  HAVE  said  that  my  friendship  with  Dmitri  had  opened 
up  to  me  a  new  view  of  life,  its  aims  and  relations.  The 
essence  of  this  view  consisted  in  the  conviction  that  man's 
destiny  was  a  striving  for  moral  perfection,  and  that  this 
perfection  was  easy,  possible,  and  eternal.  But  till  then 
I  merely  enjoyed  the  discovery  of  new  ideas  which  re- 
sulted from  this  conviction,  and  the  formation  of  brilhant 
plans  for  an  active,  moral  future,  while  my  life  proceeded 
in  the  same  petty,  tangled,  and  indolent  order. 

So  far  the  virtuous  ideas,  which  my  adored  friend 
Dmitri,  whom  I  sometimes  called  to  myself  in  a  whisper 
"  Charming  Mitya,"  and  I  used  to  discuss  in  our  chats, 
pleased  only  my  reason,  and  not  my  feeling.  But  a  time 
came  when  these  ideas  burst  upon  my  reason  with  such  a 
fresh  power  of  moral  discovery  that  I  became  frightened 
at  the  thought  of  how  much  time  I  had  spent  in  vain, 
and  I  wished  immediately,  that  very  second,  to  apply  all 
those  ideas  to  life,  with  the  firm  intention  of  never  being 
false  to  them. 

This  time  I  regard  as  the  beginning  of  my  youth. 

I  was  then  finishing  my  sixteenth  year.     Teachers  still 

253 


254  YOUTH 

came  to  the  house,  St.  J^rSme  looked  after  my  studies, 
and  I  was  preparing  myself  reluctantly,  and  against  my 
will,  for  the  university.  Outside  of  studies,  my  occupa- 
tions consisted  in  solitary,  disconnected  dreams  and  reflec- 
tions, in  practising  gymnastics  in  order  to  become  the 
first  strong  man  in  the  world,  in  loitering  without  any 
definite  aim  or  thought  about  all  the  rooms,  but  especially 
in  the  corridor  of  the  maids'  side,  and  in  observing  myself 
in  the  looking-glass,  from  which,  however,  I  always  went 
away  with  a  heavy  feeling  of  melancholy  and  disgust.  I 
was  not  only  convinced  that  my  looks  were  homely,  but 
I  could  not  even  console  myself  with  the  usual  consola- 
tions in  such  circumstances.  I  could  not  say  that  I  had 
an  expressive,  intelligent,  or  noble  countenance.  There 
was  nothing  expressive,  —  nothing  but  the  commonest, 
coarsest,  and  ugliest  of  features ;  my  small,  gray  eyes 
were,  especially  when  I  looked  in  the  mirror,  rather  dull 
than  intelligent.  There  was  even  less  of  manliness  in 
me ;  though  I  was  not  at  all  undersized,  and  very  strong 
for  my  years,  all  the  features  of  my  face  were  soft,  flabby, 
and  undefined.  There  was  not  even  anything  noble  in 
them  ;  on  the  contrary,  my  face  was  like  that  of  a  com- 
mon peasant,  and  such  also  were  my  large  feet  and  liands, 
—  and  all  that  seemed  then  a  disgraceful  thing  to  me. 


IL 

SPRING 

The  year  I  entered  the  university,  Easter  was  late  in 
April,  so  that  the  examinations  were  to  be  the  first  week 
after  Easter,  and  during  Passion  Week  I  was  to  prepare 
myself  for  the  sacrament,  and  get  ready  in  general. 

After  a  wet  snow,  which  Karl  Ivanovich  used  to  call 
"  the  son  has  come  to  fetch  the  father,"  the  weather  had 
been  for  three  days  calm,  warm,  and  clear.  Not  a  speck 
of  snow  was  to  be  seen  in  tlie  streets,  and  the  pasty  mud 
had  given  way  to  a  moist,  glistening  pavement  and  rapid 
rivulets.  The  last  drops  on  the  roofs  were  drying  up  in 
the  sun ;  in  the  gardens  the  buds  were  swelling  on  the 
trees  ;  in  the  courtyard  there  was  a  dry  patli  to  the  stable, 
past  a  frozen  heap  of  dung ;  and  near  the  porch  mossy 
grass  .sprouted  between  the  stones.  It  was  that  peculiar 
period  of  spring  which  most  powerfully  affects  a  human 
soul :  a  bright,  illuminating,  but  not  warm  sun,  rivulets 
and  thawed  spots,  an  aromatic  freshness  in  the  air,  and  a 
gently  azure  sky  with  long,  transparent  clouds.  I  do  not 
know  why,  but  it  seems  to  me  that  in  a  large  city  the 
effect  of  tliis  first  period  of  the  new-born  spring  is  more 
perceptible  and  powerful,  —  one  sees  less,  but  surmises 
more. 

I  was  standing  near  the  window,  through  which  the 
morning  sun  was  casting  athwart  the  double  panes  its 
dusty  rays  upon  tlie  floor  of  my  noisome  class-room,  and 
was  solving  some  long  algebraical  equation  on  the  black- 

255 


256  YOUTH 

board.  In  one  hand  I  held  a  torn,  coverless  algebra  of 
Franker,  in  the  other  a  small  piece  of  chalk,  with  which 
I  had  soiled  both  my  hands,  my  face,  and  the  elbows  of 
my  half-dress  coat.  Nikolay,  in  an  apron  and  rolled-up 
sleeves,  was  brealdng  off  the  putty  and  unbending  the 
nails  of  the  window  that  opened  on  the  garden.  His  oc- 
cupation and  the  noise  which  he  made  distracted  my 
attention.  Besides,  I  was  in  a  very  bad  and  dissatisfied 
mood.  Everything  somehow  went  against  me  ;  I  had 
made  a  mistake  in  the  beginning  of  the  calculation,  so 
that  I  had  to  start  again ;  I  twice  dropped  the  chalk ;  I 
felt  that  my  face  and  hands  were  all  soiled  ;  the  sponge 
got  lost  somewhere ;  the  noise  which  Nikolay  produced 
made  me  dreadfully  nervous.  I  wanted  to  get  angry  and 
to  grumble  ;  I  threw  down  the  chalk  and  the  algebra,  and 
began  to  walk  up  and  down  the  room.  I  recalled  that 
we  had  to  go  to  confession  that  very  day,  and  that  I  had 
to  aljstain  from  everything  bad.  Suddenly  a  meek  spirit 
came  over  me,  and  I  walked  up  to  Nikolay. 

"  Let  me  help  you,  Nikolay,"  I  said,  endeavouring  to 
give  my  voice  a  meek  expression.  The  thought  that  I 
was  doing  right  in  suppressing  my  anger  and  in  helping 
him  increased  my  meek  mood  still  more. 

The  putty  was  knocked  off,  the  nails  unbent ;  but  al- 
though Nikolay  jerked  at  the  crosspiece  with  all  his 
might,  the  frame  did  not  move. 

"  If  the  frame  will  come  out  at  once,  when  I  pull  with 
him,"  I  thought,  "  I  shall  take  it  to  be  a  sin  to  work  any 
more  to-day."  The  frame  moved  to  one  side  and  came 
out. 

"  Where  shall  I  take  it  to  ? "  I  asked. 

"  Permit  me,  I  will  do  it  myself,"  answered  Nikolay, 
evidently  surprised,  and  rather  dissatisfied  with  my  zeal. 
"  I  must  not  get  them  mixed  up,  for  I  have  them  there 
by  numbers,  in  the  lumber-room." 

"  I  will  look  out,"  I  said,  lifting  the  frame. 


SPRING  257 

It  seemed  to  me  that  if  the  himber-room  were  two 
versts  away,  and  the  frame  twice  as  heavy,  I  should  have 
been  very  well  satisfied.  I  wanted  to  exert  myself  while 
obliging  Nikolay.  When  I  returned  to  the  room,  the 
small  bricks  and  the  salt  pyramids  ^  were  already  lying 
on  the  sill,  and  Nikoiay,  with  a  wing  duster,  was  sweep- 
ing the  sand  and  the  drowsy  flies  through  the  open  win- 
dow. The  fresh,  fragrant  air  penetrated  the  room  and 
filled  it.  Through  the  window  was  heard  the  din  of  the 
city  and  the  chirping  of  the  sparrows  in  the  garden. 

All  objects  were  brilliantly  illuminated,  the  room 
looked  merrier,  a  light  spring  breeze  agitated  the  leaves 
of  m}^  algebra  and  the  hair  on  Nikolay's  head.  I  went 
Up  to  the  window,  sat  upon  it,  bent  down  to  the  garden, 
and  fell  to  musing. 

A  novel,  exceedingly  powerful  and  pleasant  sensation 
suddenly  penetrated  into  my  soul.  The  damp  earth, 
tliroligh  which  here  and  there  burst  bright-green  blades 
of  grass,  with  their  yellow  stalks ;  the  rills  glistening  in 
the  sun,  along  which  meandered  pieces  of  earth  and 
chips ;  the  blushing  twigs  of  the  lilac  bushes  with  their 
swelling  buds  swaying  under  the  very  window ;  the  busy 
chirping  of  the  birds  that  swarmed  in  the  bushes ;  the 
black  fence  wet  with  the  thawing  snow ;  but,  above  all, 
that  aromatic  moist  air  and  joyous  sun  spoke  to  me  dis- 
tinctly and  clearly  of  something  new  and  beautiful,  which, 
though  I  am  not  able  to  tell  it  as  it  appeared  to  me,  I 
shall  attempt  to  tell  as  I  conceived  it.  Everything  spoke 
to  me  of  beauty,  happiness,  and  virtue ;  it  told  me  that 
all  that  was  easy  and  possible  for  me,  that  one  thing  could 
not  be  without  the  other,  and  even  that  beauty,  happiness, 
and  virtue  were  one  and  the  same.  •"  How  was  it  I  did 
not  understand  it  before  ?  As  bad  as  I  was  in  the  past, 
so  good  and  happy  shall  I  become  in  the  future  ! "  I  said 
to  myself.  "  I  must  at  once,  this  very  minute,  become 
i  Placed  on  the  saud  between  the  double  windows. 


258  YOUTH 

another  man,  and  live  another  hfe."  In  spite  of  this  1 
sat  for  a  long  time  on  the  window,  dreaming  and  doing 
nothing. 

Have  you  ever  happened  to  faU  asleep  on  a  gloomy, 
rainy  summer  day,  and,  awaking  at  sundowm,  to  open 
your  eyes;  through  the  broadening  quadrilateral  of  the 
window,  beneath  the  canvas  awning,  that,  blown  up  by 
the  wind,  strikes  its  rod  against  the  window-sill,  to  ob- 
serve the  shady,  lilac  side  of  the  avenue  of  hndens,  wet 
from  rain,  and  the  damp  garden  path,  illuminated  by  the 
slanting  rays  of  the  sun  ;  suddenly  to  hear  the  merry  hfe 
of  the  birds  in  the  garden ;  to  see  the  insects  that,  trans- 
lucent in  the  sun,  hover  in  the  opening  of  the  window ; 
to  smell  the  fragrance  of  the  air  after  the  rain ;  to  think 
"  How  ashamed  I  am  to  have  slept  through  such  an  even- 
ing ; "  and  hurriedly  to  jump  up,  in  order  to  run  into  the 
garden  to  enjoy  life  ?  If  such  a  thing  has  happened  to 
you,  you  have  a  picture  of  that  powerful  feeling  which  I 
experienced  at  that  time. 


in. 

DREAMS 

"  To-day  I  shall  confess  and  cleanse  myself  of  all  my 
sins,"  I  thought,  "  and  I  never  again  —  "  (here  I  thought  of 
all  the  sins  that  most  tormented  me).  "  I  shall  go  every 
Sunday  to  church,  and  afterward  shall  read  the  Gospel  for 
a  whole  hour;  and,  from  every  twenty-five-rouble  bill, 
which  I  shall  receive  every  month  as  soon  as  I  enter  the 
university,  I  shall  certainly  give  two  and  a  half  roubles 
(a  tithe)  to  the  poor,  without  letting  anybody  know  it ; 
and  not  to  mere  beggars  shall  I  give  it,  but  I  shall  hunt 
up  some  destitute  people,  an  orphan  or  an  old  woman,  of 
whom  nobody  knows. 

"  I  shall  have  a  separate  room  (no  doubt  St.  Jerome's), 
and  I  shall  fix  it  up  myself  and  keep  it  in  wonderful 
order ;  I  shall  not  permit  a  servant  to  do  anything  for 
me.  For  is  he  not  just  such  a  man  as  I  am  ?  For  the 
same  reason  I  shall  walk  every  day  to  the  university  (and 
if  they  give  me  a  vehicle,  I  shall  sell  it,  and  use  the 
money  for  the  poor),  and  promptly  execute  everything" 
(what  that  "  everything  "  was  I  should  not  have  been  able 
at  that  time  to  tell,  but  I  vividly  understood  and  felt  that 
"  everything  "  of  a  sensible,  moral,  and  blameless  life). 

"  I  shall  take  down  the  lectures,  and  even  prepare  my 
subjects  in  advance,  so  that  I  shall  be  first  in  the  first 
year,  and  shall  write  a  dissertation.  In  the  second  year 
I  shall  know  everything  in  advance,  and  they  will  be  able 
to  promote  me  at  once  to  the  third  year,  so  that  at  eight- 

259 


260  YOUTH 

eeu  years  of  age  I  shall  graduate  as  a  Candidate  witli 
two  golden  medals ;  then  I  shall  get  my  master's  and  my 
doctor's  degree,  and  I  shall  be  the  first  learned  man  in 
Russia,  I  may  even  become  the  greatest  scholar  in 
Europe. 

"  Well,  and  then  ? "  I  asked  myself ;  but  I  happened  to 
think  that  these  dreams  were  proud,  consequently,  a  sin 
which  I  should  have  to  tell  that  very  evening  to  the 
priest,  and  I  returned  to  the  beginning  of  my  reflections. 

"  To  prepare  my  lectures,  I  shall  walk  to  the  Sparrow 
Hills.  There  I  shall  choose  a  spot  under  some  tree,  where 
I  can  read  them  over.  Sometimes  I  shall  take  a  lunch 
along  with  me,  some  cheese,  or  pasties  from  Pedotti,  or 
something  of  the  kind.  I  shall  rest  awhile,  after  w^hich 
I  shall  read  a  good  book,  or  draw  a  landscape,  or  play  an 
instrument  (I  must  by  all  means  learn  to  play  the  flute). 
Then,  she,  too,  will  walk  out  to  the  Sparrow  Hills,  and 
she  will  some  day  walk  up  to  me,  and  ask  who  I  am.  I 
shall  glance  sadly  at  her,  and  say  that  I  am  the  son  of 
a  clergyman,  and  that  I  am  happy  only  when  I  am  here 
alone,  all  sole  alone.  She  will  give  me  her  hand,  will 
say  something,  and  sit  down  by  my  side.  Thus,  we  shall 
go  there  every  day  and  be  friends,  and  I  shall  kiss  her  — 
no,  that  is  not  good,  on  the  contrary,  from  to-day  I  shall 
never  again  look  at  women.  I  shall  never,  never  go  to 
the  maids'  room,  not  even  near  it ;  three  years  later  I  shall 
be  of  age,  and  shall  certainly  marry. 

"  I  shall  take  exercise  as  much  as  possible,  and  practise 
gymnastics  every  day,  so  that  when  I  am  twenty-five 
years  old,  I  shall  be  stronger  than  Eappeau.  The  first 
day  I  shall  hold  twenty  pounds  in  my  outstretched  arm, 
the  next  day  twenty-one  pounds,  the  third  twenty-two, 
and  so  on,  until  at  last  one  hundred  and  sixty  pounds  in 
each  hand,  so  that  I  sliall  be  stronger  than  anybody 
among  the  servants  ;  and  if  anybody  dares  to  insult  me,  or 
to  refer  disrespectfully  to  her,  I  shall  take  him  just  by  his 


DREAMS  261 

chest,  shall  raise  him  with  my  hand  some  five  feet  from 
the  ground,  and  hold  him  awhile,  to  make  him  feel  my 
strength,  and  then  let  him  go  ;  however,  that  is  not  good ; 
no,  it  will  not  do  any  harm,  I  sha'n't  do  anything  to  him : 
I  shall  only  prove  to  him  that  I  —  " 

Let  no  one  accuse  me  that  the  dreams  of  my  youth 
were  just  as  cliildish  as  the  dreams  of  my  childhood  and 
boyhood.  I  am  convinced  that  if  it  is  my  lot  to  live  to 
an  old  age,  and  if  my  story  overtakes  my  old  age,  I,  as  a 
man  of  seventy  years,  shall  dream  just  such  impossible, 
childish  dreams,  as  in  the  past.  I  shall  dream  of  some 
charming  Mary  who  will  fall  in  love  with  me,  the  tooth- 
less old  man,  as  she  fell  in  love  with  Mazeppa ;  of  my 
weak-minded  son  suddenly  becoming  minister  by  some 
strange  accident ;  or  of  my  suddenly  losing  millions.  I 
am  convinced  that  there  is  not  a  human  being  or  an  age 
that  is  free  from  this  benign,  consoling  ability  to  dream. 
But,  except  for  the  common  feature  of  their  impossibility 
and  their  fairy-like  nature,  the  dreams  of  every  man  and 
every  age  have  their  distinguishing  characteristics.  At 
that  period,  which  I  regard  as  the  extreme  limit  of  boy- 
hood and  beginning  of  youth,  at  the  basis  of  my  dreams 
were  four  sentiments :  the  love  for  Tier,  an  imaginary 
woman,  of  whom  I  dreamt  ever  in  the  same  way,  and 
whom  I  expected  to  meet  somewhere  at  any  minute. 
This  she  was  partly  Sonichka,  partly  Masha,  Vasili's  wife, 
while  washing  linen  in  the  trough,  and  partly  a  woman 
with  pearls  on  her  white  neck,  whom  I  had  seen  long  ago 
in  the  theatre,  in  a  box  near  us.  My  second  sentiment 
was  the  love  of  love.  I  wanted  everybody  to  know  and 
love  me.  I  wanted  to  say  my  name  "  Nikolay  Irt^nev," 
and  have  every  one  struck  by  this  information,  and  sur- 
round me  and  thank  me  for  something.  The  third  senti- 
ment was  a  hope  for  some  unusual,  vain  happiness, — 
such  a  strong  and  firm  hope  that  it  passed  into  insanity. 
I  was  so  convinced  that  very   soon  T   should,  by  some 


262  YOUTH 

extraordinary  occurrence,  become  the  richest  and  most  dis- 
tinguished man  in  the  world,  that  I  continually  lived 
in  an  agitated  expectancy  of  soine  fairy  happiness.  I  was 
waiting  for  it  to  begin,  when  I  should  obtain  all  that  a 
man  may  wish,  and  I  was  always  in  a  Imrry,  lest  it 
should  begin  where  I  was  not.  My  fourth  and  chief  sen- 
timent was  my  self-disgust  and  repentance,  but  a  repent- 
ance which  so  closely  welded  with  the  hope  of  happiness, 
that  there  was  nothing  sad  in  it.  It  seemed  to  me  so 
easy  and  natural  to  tear  myself  away  from  all  my  past, 
to  transform  and  forget  everything  which  was  before,  and 
to  begin  life  with  all  its  relations  entirely  anew,  in  order 
that  the  past  should  not  oppress  nor  bind  me.  I  even 
found  pleasure  in  my  disgust  witli  the  past,  and  tried  to 
see  it  blacker  than  it  was.  The  blacker  the  circle  of  my 
memories  of  the  past,  the  brighter  and  cleaner  stood  out 
from  it  the  bright  and  clean  point  of  the  present,  and 
streamed  the  rainbow  colours  of  the  future.  This  voice 
of  repentance  and  passionate  desire  for  perfection  was  the 
main  new  sensation  of  my  soul  at  that  epoch  of  my 
development,  and  it  was  this  whicli  laid  a  new  founda- 
tion for  my  views  of  myself,  of  people,  and  of  the  whole 
world. 

Beneficent,  consoling  voice,  wliich  since  then  has  so 
often  arisen  suddenly  and  boldly  against  all  lies  in  those 
sad  moments,  when  the  soul  in  silence  submitted  to  the 
power  of  deceit  and  debauch  in  life,  which  has  angrily 
accused  the  past,  has  indicated  the  bright  point  of  the 
present,  causing  one  to  love  it,  and  has  promised  happi- 
ness and  well-being  in  the  future,  —  beneficent,  consoling 
voice  !   will  vou  ever  cease  to  be  heard  ? 


IV. 

OUR    FAMILY    CIRCLE 

Papa  was  rarely  at  home  during  this  spring.  But  when 
it  did  happen,  he  was  exceedingly  merry,  strummed  his 
favourite  airs  on  the  piano,  smiled  gaily  at  us,  and  joked 
us  all,  especially  Mimi ;  he  would  say,  for  example,  that 
the  Tsar^vich  of  Georgia  had  seen  Mimi  while  she  was  out 
driving,  and  had  fallen  so  in  love  with  her  that  he  had 
petitioned  the  Synod  for  a  divorce ;  that  I  was  to  be 
appointed  secretary  to  the  ambassador  at  Vienna,  —  and 
he  announced  these  items  of  news  to  us  with  a  serious 
countenance  ;  he  frightened  Katenka  with  sjjiders,  of  which 
she  was  afraid ;  he  was  very  kind  to  our  friends  Dubkov 
and  Nekhlyiidov,  and  continually  told  us  and  our  guests 
his  plans  for  the  next  year.  Although  these  plans 
changed  nearly  every  day,  and  contradicted  each  other, 
they  were  so  attractive  that  we  listened  to  them  with 
pleasure,  and  Lyiibochka  looked  at  papa's  mouth  without 
winking,  lest  she  should  lose  a  single  word.  Now  the 
plan  was  for  him  to  leave  us  at  the  university  in  Moscow, 
and  go  himself  with  Lyubochka  to  Italy  for  two  years ; 
now,  to  buy  an  estate  in  the  Crimea,  on  its  southern 
shore,  and  to  go  there  every  summer ;  now,  to  settle  with 
the  whole  family  in  St.  Petersburg,  and  so  on.  Besides  the 
unusual  merriment,  another  change  had  of  late  taken  place 
in  papa,  at  which  I  marvelled  very  much.  He  had  had 
made  for  himself  a  fasliionable  suit,  —  an  olive-coloured 
dress  coat,  fashionable  pantaloons  with  foot-straps,  and  a 

263 


264  YOUTH 

long  wadded  overcoat,  which  was  very  becoming  to  him, 
and  frequently  he  was  scented  with  perfume,  when  he 
drove  out  to  make  calls,  but  especially  at  the  house  of  a 
lady,  of  whom  Mi  mi  never  spoke  but  with  sighs  and  with 
a  face  upon  which  one  almost  could  read  the  words : 
"  Poor  orphans  !  Unlucky  passion  !  It  is  well  that  she  is 
no  more."  I  found  out  from  Nikolay,  for  papa  would  not 
tell  us  anything  about  his  gaming,  that  he  had  been  par- 
ticularly lucky  at  cards  that  winter ;  he  had  won  an 
immense  sum,  which  he  had  deposited  in  the  bank,  and 
in  the  spring  he  did  not  want  to  play  again.  No  doubt 
because  he  was  afraid  of  the  temptation,  he  wanted  to 
leave  for  the  country  as  soon  as  possible,  He  had  even 
decided  not  to  wait  for  my  entering  the  university,  but  to 
leave  immediately  after  Easter  with  the  girls  for  Petrov- 
skoe,  whither  Volodya  and  I  were  to  go  later. 

Volodya  was  all  that  winter,  until  spring,  inseparable 
from  Dubkov,  but  his  relation  with  Dmitri  was  beginning 
to  cool  off.  Their  chief  entertainments,  so  far  as  I  could 
conclude  from  the  conversations  which  I  heard,  consisted 
in  drinking  champagne,  driving  in  sleighs  by  the  windows 
of  a  lady,  with  whom  they  were  both,  I  think,  in  love, 
and  in  dancing  vis-a-vis,  not  at  children's,  but  at  real 
balls.  This  latter  circumstance  separated  us  very  much, 
though  we  loved  each  other.  We  felt  too  great  a  differ- 
ence between  a  boy  who  had  teachers  coming  to  him,  and 
a  man  who  danced  at  the  balls  of  grown  people,  ever  to 
make  up  our  minds  to  tell  each  other  our  secrets. 

Katenka  was  quite  a  young  lady,  and  read  a  lot  of 
novels,  and  the  thought  that  she  would  marry  soon  did 
not  seem  a  joke  any  longer;  yet,  though  Volodya  himself 
was  a  young  man,  they  did  not  become  very  intimate,  and, 
it  seemed,  even  despised  each  other.  In  general,  when- 
ever Katenka  was  alone  at  home,  nothing  interested  her 
but  novels,  and  she  suffered  ennui ;  but  when  there  were 
outside  gentlemen  present,  she  became  very  lively  and 


OUR    FAMILY    CIRCLE  265 

agreeable,  and  used  her  eyes  in  such  a  way,  that  I  was 
unable  to  make  out  what  she  meant.  Later  I  learned 
from  a  conversation  of  hers  that  the  only  permissible 
coquetry  for  a  maiden  was  that  of  the  eyes,  and  so  I  was 
able  to  explain  to  myself  those  strange,  unnatural  ges- 
tures with  the  eyes,  which  did  not  seem  to  surprise  others. 

Lyubochka  was  beginning  to  wear  a  very  long  dress, 
so  that  her  crooked  legs  could  not  be  seen,  but  she  was 
the  same  cry-baby  she  had  been  before.  Now  she  was 
dreaming  of  marrying,  not  a  hussar,  but  a  singer  or  musi- 
cian, and  for  this  purpose  she  applied  herself  zealously  to 
music. 

St.  Jerome,  who  knew  that  he  would  stay  in  our  house 
only  until  the  end  of  my  examinations,  had  found  a  place 
at  the  house  of  some  count,  and  ever  since  had  looked 
down  contemptuously  on  our  people.  He  was  rarely  at 
home,  began  to  smoke  cigarettes,  which  then  was  a  sign 
of  dandyism,  and  continually  whistled  some  jolly  airs 
through  a  visiting-card. 

Mimi  grew  sadder  from  day  to  day,  and  did  not 
expect  anything  good  from  any  of  us,  ever  since  we  had 
grown  up. 

When  I  came  to  dinner  I  found  only  Mimi,  Katenka, 
Lyubochka,  and  St.  Jerome  in  the  dining-room.  Papa  was 
not  at  home,  and  Volddya  was  preparing  for  his  examina- 
tion with-  his  companions  in  his  room,  and  had  ordered 
his  dinner  to  be  sent  up  to  him.  Of  late,  Mimi  generally 
occupied  the  place  of  honour  at  the  table,  but  none  of  us 
respected  her,  and  so  the  dmner  lost  much  of  its  charm. 
The  dinner  no  longer  was,  as  with  mamma  and  grand- 
mother, a  ceremony  which  at  a  certain  hour  united  the 
whole  family,  and  divided  the  day  into  halves.  We 
allowed  ourselves  to  be  late,  to  arrive  only  at  the  second 
course,  to  drink  wine  in  tumblers  (an  example  set  by  St. 
Jerome),  to  lean  back  in  the  chair,  to  rise  before  the  end 
of  the  dinner,  and  similar  liberties.     It  was  quite  differ- 


266  YOUTH 

ent  at  Petrovskoe,  when  at  two  o'clock  ail  sat  in  the 
sitting-room  washed  and  dressed  for  dinner,  chatting  mer- 
rily until  the  appointed  hour.  Precisely  at  the  moment 
when  the  clock  in  the  officiating-room  growled,  in  order 
to  strike  two,  Poka  softly  walked  in,  with  a  dignified  and 
somewhat  austere  face,  holding  his  napkin  over  his  arm. 
"Dinner  is  served!"  he  announced  in  a  loud,  drawling 
voice,  and  everybody  went  to  the  dining-room  with  a 
happy  and  satisfied  countenance,  the  older  people  in 
front,  the  younger  ones  behind,  rustling  their  starched 
petticoats  and  creaking  with  their  boots  and  shoes, — 
and  conversing  in  an  undertone,  they  all  seated  them- 
selves at  their  proper  places.  How  different,  too,  it  was 
in  Moscow,  when  all,  speaking  softly,  stood  before  the 
table  which  was  set  in  the  parlour,  waiting  for  grand- 
mother, to  whom  Gavrilo  had  gone  to  announce  that  the 
meal  was  served !  Suddenly  the  door  opened,  there  was 
heard  the  rustle  of  a  dress  and  the  shuffling  of  feet,  and 
grandmother,  in  a  cap  with  some  extraordinary  lilac 
ribbon,  sailed  in  sideways,  smiling  or  looking  gloomy, 
according  to  the  condition  of  her  health.  Gavrilo  rushed 
to  her  armchair,  the  chairs  were  moved,  and  feehng  a 
chill  pass  down  my  back,  —  a  foreboding  of  a  good 
appetite,  —  I  would  take  up  the  damp,  starched  napkin 
and  munch  a  crust  of  bread,  and,  rubbing  my  hands 
under  the  table  in  impatient  and  pleasant  anticipation, 
would  look  at  the  steaming  plates  of  soup,  which  the 
majordomo  poured  out  according  to  rank,  age,  and  grand- 
mother's considerate  attention. 

Now  I  no  longer  experienced  any  pleasure  or  agitation, 
when  I  came  to  dinner. 

The  gossip  of  Mimi,  St.  Jerome,  and  the  girls  about  the 
terrible  boots  of  the  teacher  of  Russian,  about  trimmings 
on  the  dresses  of  the  Princesses  Kornakov  and  so  forth,  — 
their  gossip,  which  formerly  used  to  inspire  me  with  gen- 
uine loathing  that  I  did  not  try  to  conceal,  especially  before 


OUR   FAMILY    CIRCLE  267 

Lyubochka  and  Katenka,  did  not  ruffle  my  new,  virtuous 
temper.  I  was  exceedingly  meek  ;  I  smiled  and  respectfully 
listened  to  them,  respectfully  asked  them  to  pass  me  the 
kvas,  and  agreed  with  St.  Jerome,  who  corrected  a  phrase 
of  mine  which  I  had  used  at  dinner,  remarking  that  it 
was  more  elegant  to  say  je  puis  than  je  j^eux.  I  must, 
however,  confess  that  I  was  a  little  disappointed  because 
nobody  paid  any  attention  to  my  meekness  and  virtue. 
Lyiibochka  showed  me  after  dinner  a  piece  of  paper  on 
which  she  had  marked  down  all  her  sins  ;  I  found  that  it 
was  all  very  well,  but  that  it  was  better  still  to  write 
down  one's  sins  in  one's  soul,  and  that  her  way  was  not 
"  just  the  right  thing." 

"  Why  is  it  not  the  right  thing  ? "  asked  Lyubochka. 

"  Well,  this  is  good,  too ;  but  you  will  not  understand 
me."  And  I  went  up-stairs,  saying  to  St.  Jerome  that  I 
went  to  study,  but,  in  reality,  to  write  out,  in  the  hour 
and  a  half  that  were  left  before  the  confession,  a  schedule 
of  all  my  duties  and  occupations  for  my  whole  life,  to 
put  down  on  paper  the  aim  of  my  hfe  and  the  rules  from 
which  I  was  never  to  depart  in  all  my  actions. 


V. 

THE    RULES 

I  TOOK  a  sheet  of  paper,  and  first  intended  to  Consider 
the  schedule  of  my  obhgations  and  occupations  for  the 
next  year.  I  had  to  hue  the  paper,  but  as  I  could  iiot 
find  the  ruler,  I  used  the  Latin  lexicon  for  it.  After 
drawing  the  pen  along  the  lexicon  and  removing  the  latter, 
I  discovered  that  I  had  made  a  long  puddle  of  irik  on  the 
paper,  instead  of  a  Mne,  and  that,  since  the  lexicon  was 
not  long  enough,  the  line  had  bent  downward  along  its 
soft  edge.  I  took  another  sheet  and,  moving  the  lexicon 
carefully,  managed  to  get  it  ruled  after  a  fashion. 

I  divided  my  duties  into  three  categories :  into  duties 
to  myself,  to  my  neighbours,  and  to  God.  Then  I  began 
to  write  down  the  first,  but  there  turned  up  so  many  of 
them,  and  so  many  kinds  and  subdivisions  of  them,  that 
I  had  to  write  first  "  Eules  of  Life,"  and  not  until  then 
to  consider  the  schedule.  I  took  six  sheets  of  paper, 
sewed  them  into  a  book,  and  wrote  above,  "  Rules  of  Life." 
These  words  were  written  so  crookedly  and  unevenly, 
that  I  long  considered  whether  I  had  not  better  rewrite 
them,  and  felt  annoyed,  as  I  looked  at  the  torn  schedule 
and  the  monstrous  heading.  "  Why  is  everything  so 
beautiful  and  clear  in  my  sou],  and  yet  so  horrible  on 
paper,  and  in  life  in  general,  when  I  want  to  apply  to  it 
something  I  am  thinking  of  ? " 

"  The  father  confessor  has  come.  Please  come  down- 
stairs to  hear  the  rules  !  "  Nikolay  announced. 

268 


THE    RULES  269 

I  concealed  the  book  in  the  table,  looked  in  the  mirror, 
brushed  my  hair  upwards,  which,  in  my  opinion,  gave  me 
a  pensive  appearance,  and  went  down  into  the  sofa-room, 
where  a  table  was  placed  with  the  image  and  the  burning 
wax  candles  upon  it.  Papa  entered  the  room  through 
another  door  at  the  same  time  with  me.  The  priest,  a 
gray-haired  monk,  blessed  papa  with  the  stern  mien  of  an 
old  man.  Papa  kissed  his  small,  broad,  dry  hand.  I  did 
the  same. 

"  Call  Voldemar ! "  said  papa.  "  Where  is  he  ?  But  no, 
he  is  preparing  for  the  sacrament  at  the  university." 

"  He  is  busy  with  the  prince,"  said  Katenka,  and  looked 
at  Lyilbochka.  Lyiibochka  suddenly  blushed  and,  frowning 
as  though  she  were  in  pain,  left  the  room.  I  followed 
her.  She  stopped  in  the  sitting-room,  and  wrote  something 
down  on  the  paper  with  her  pencil. 

"  What,  have  you  committed  a  new  sin  ? "  I  asked. 

"  No,  nothing,  just  nothing,"  she  answered,  blushing. 

Just  then  was  heard  Dmitri's  voice  in  the  antechamber, 
bidding  Volodya  good-bye. 

"  Well,  everything  is  a  temptation  for  you,"  said  Katenka, 
entering  the  room  and  turning  to  Lyilbochka. 

I  could  not  make  out  what  was  the  matter  with  Lyil- 
bochka :  she  was  confused,  so  that  tears  appeared  in  her 
eyes,  and  her  agitation,  reaching  its  highest  limit,  passed 
into  annoyance  wdth  herself  and  with  Katenka,  who 
evidently  was  teasing  her. 

"  One  can  see  you  are  a  foreigner  "  (nothing  could  be 
more  offensive  to  Katenka  than  being  called  a  foreigner, 
and  Lyilbochka  used  the  word  intentionally) ;  "  before 
this  mystery,"  she  continued  in  a  solemn  voice,  "  you 
disturb  me  on  purpose  —  you  ought  to  understand  — 
it  is  not  a  trifling  matter." 

"  Do  you  know,  Nikolenka,  what  she  wrote  down  ? " 
said  Katenka,  who  was  offended  by  the  name  of  foreigner 
"  She  wrote  —  " 


270  YOUTH 

"  I  did  not  expect  you  to  be  as  mean  as  that,"  said 
Lyiibochka,  blubbering,  as  she  left  us.  "  At  such  moments 
you  on  purpose,  all  my  life,  lead  me  into  sin.  I  do  not 
bother  you  with  my  sentiments  and  sufi'erings." 


VI. 

THE   CONFESSION 

With  these  and  similar  distracting  reflections  I  returned 
to  the  sofa-room,  when  all  had  gathered  there,  and  the 
priest  rose,  ready  to  read  the  prayer  before  the  confession. 
But  when,  amidst  a  general  silence,  was  heard  the  clear, 
stern  voice  of  the  monk  saying  the  prayer,  and  especially 
when  he  pronounced  the  words  to  us,  "  Lay  open  all  your 
transgressions  without  shame,  concealment,  or  justification, 
and  your  soul  shall  be  cleansed  before  God,  but  if  you 
conceal  anything,  you  shall  incur  a  great  sin,"  the  feeling 
of  devout  tremor,  which  I  had  experienced  in  the  morning 
at  the  thought  of  the  impending  mystery,  returned  to  me. 
I  even  found  pleasure  in  tlie  consciousness  of  this  state, 
and  I  tried  to  retain  it,  by  arresting  all  the  thoughts 
which  came  to  my  mind,  and  by  endeavouring  to  fear 
something. 

Papa  went  first  to  confession.  He  remained  very 
long  in  grandmother's  room,  and  all  that  time  we  were 
silent  in  the  sofa-room,  or  in  a  whisper  talked  about  who 
would  come  next.  Then,  the  voice  of  the  monk  saying 
the  prayer  was  once  more  heard  in  the  door,  and  papa's 
steps.  The  door  creaked,  and  he  came  out,  coughing,  as 
was  his  habit,  jerking  his  shoulder,  and  not  looking  at  any 
of  us. 

"  Now,  you  go,  Lyuba,  but  be  sure  and  say  everything. 
You  are  a  great  sinner,  you  know,"  merrily  spoke  papa, 
pinching  her  cheek. 

271 


272  YOUTH 

Lyiibochka  grew  pale  and  blushed,  took  her  note  out 
of  her  apron  and  hid  it  again,  and,  lowering  her  head  and 
somehow  shortening  her  neck,  as  if  expecting  a  blow  from 
above,  passed  through  the  door.  She  did  not  stay  there 
long,  but  when  she  issued  thence,  her  shoulders  were 
convulsed  with  sobs. 

Finally,  after  pretty  Katenka  had  returned  through  the 
door  smiling,  my  turn  arrived.  I  went  into  the  dimly 
lighted  room  with  the  same  dull  fear  and  the  same  desire 
consciously  to  increase  that  fear.  The  priest  stood  before 
the  reading-desk,  and  slowly  turned  his  face  to  me. 

I  passed  not  more  than  five  minutes  in  grandmother's 
room,  and  I  came  out  of  it  happy  and,  as  I  was  then 
convinced,  completely  purified,  morally  regenerated,  and  a 
new  man.  Although  I  was  unpleasantly  affected  by  the 
old  circumstance  of  hfe,  by  the  old  rooms,  the  old  furni- 
ture, my  old  figure  (I  wished  that  all  the  external  things 
might  have  changed  as  much  as  I  thought  I  had  changed 
internally),  in  spite  of  it  all,  I  remained  in  this  blissful 
frame  of  mind  up  to  the  time  when  I  went  to  bed. 

I  was  falling  asleep,  going  over  in  my  imagination  all 
the  sins  from  which  I  had  been  cleansed,  when  suddenly 
I  recalled  a  shameful  sin  which  I  had  concealed  at  the 
confession.  The  words  of  the  prayer  before  the  confession 
came  to  my  mind  and  continually  dinned  in  my  ears.  My 
peace  was  gone  at  once.  "  But  if  yon  conceal  any- 
thing, you  shall  incur  a  great  sin,"  resounded  in  my  ears 
without  interruption,  and  I  saw  myself  as  such  a  terrible 
sinner,  that  there  was  no  adequate  punishment  for  me. 
I  long  tossed  from  side  to  side,  reflecting  on  my  situation 
and  awaiting  the  divine  punishment  at  any  time,  and 
even  sudden  death,  —  a  thought  which  induced  an  in- 
describable terror  in  me.  All  at  once  a  happy  thought 
came  to  me :  the  next  morning,  soon  after  daybreak,  I 
would  walk  or  drive  to  the  priest  in  the  monastery,  to 
confess  once  more,  and  I  quieted  down. 


VII. 

DRIVE   TO   THE   MONASTERY 

I  AWOKE  several  times  during  the  night,  fearing  to 
sleep  through  the  morning,  and  at  six  o'clock  I  was 
filready  on  my  feet.  Day  was  just  dawning.  I  put  on 
my  clothes  and  my  boots,  which  lay  rumpled  and  un- 
hrushed  near  roy  bed,  because  Nikolay  h^d  pot  had  time 
to  take  them  away,  and  without  praying  or  washing,  I  for 
the  first  time  in  my  hfe  went  out  by  myself  into  the 
street. 

On  the  opposite  side,  the  misty,  chilly  dawn  gleamed 
behind  the  green  roof  qf  a  large  hovise.  A  fairly  strong 
vernal  morning  frost  fettered  the  mud  and  rills,  stung  my 
feet,  and  pinched  my  face  and  hands.  In  our  lane  there 
was  no  cabman  with  whom  I  could  drive  there  and  back 
at  pnce  as  I  had  hoped.  Only  some  wagons  were  slowly 
going  down  the  Arbat,  and  two  stone-masons  passed, 
chatting,  on  the  sidewalk.  After  I  had  walked  some 
thousand  paces,  I  began  to  come  across. pien  aqd  women 
who  were  going  to  market  with  their  baskets,  and  water- 
carts  which  were  driving  to  get  their  barrels  filled ;  a 
cake-seller  walked  out  on  the  cross-road  ;  a  bakery  opened 
its  door;  apd  at  the  Arba't  gates  I  fell  in  with  a  cabman, 
an  old  man,  who  was  asleep  and  nodding  in  his  faded, 
grayish  blue  and  patched-up  vehicle.  He  was  evidently 
still  half  asleep  when  he  asked  twenty  kopeks  for  driving 
me  to  the  monastery  and  back,  but  he  suddenly  came  to 
his  senses,  and  when  I   was  about  to  take  my  seat,  he 

273 


274  YOUTH 

whipped  up  his  horses  with  the  ends  of  his  reins,  and 
drove  away  from  me.  "  I  have  to  feed  the  horse  !  I  can't 
take  you,  sir ! "  he  mumbled. 

I  stopped  him  after  much  persuasion,  by  offering  him 
forty  kopeks.  He  pulled  up  his  horse,  cautiously  ex- 
amined me,  and  said  :  "  Take  your  seat,  sir  ! "  I  must  say 
I  was  a  little  afraid  he  would  take  me  to  some  blind 
alley,  to  rob  me.  Getting  hold  of  the  collar  of  his  badly 
torn  cloak,  thus  ruthlessly  laying  bare  the  wrinkled  neck 
over  his  stooping  shoulders,  I  climbed  on  the  blue,  saddle- 
formed,  shaky  seat,  and  we  rattled  along  the  Vozdvi- 
zhenka.  On  the  way  down  I  noticed  that  the  back  of 
the  vehicle  was  patched  with  a  piece  of  greenish  material, 
the  same  that  his  cloak  was  made  of ;  this  circumstance 
for  some  reason  quieted  me,  and  I  no  longer  was  afraid 
that  he  would  take  me  to  a  blind  alley,  to  rob  me. 

The  sun  had  risen  quite  high,  and  brilliantly  illumi- 
nated the  cupolas  of  the  churches,  when  we  drove  up  to  the 
monastery.  In  the  shade  there  was  still  some  frost,  but 
all  along  the  road  flowed  rapid,  turbid  rills,  and  the  horse 
splashed  in  the  thawing  mud.  After  passing  through  the 
monastery  enclosure,  I  asked  the  first  person  whom  I  met 
where  to  find  the  father  confessor. 

"  There  is  his  cell,"  said  the  monk,  stopping  for  a 
minute  and  pointing  to  a  small  house  with  a  porch. 

"  I  thank  you  very  much,"  I  said. 

What  could  the  monks  have  thought  of  me,  as  they 
gazed  at  me,  upon  issuing,  one  after  another,  from  the 
church  ?  I  was  neither  a  man,  nor  a  child ;  my  face 
was  not  washed,  my  hair  not  combed,  my  clothes  were 
covered  with  feathers,  my  boots  were  unblacked  and 
muddy.  To  what  category  of  men  did  the  monks  men- 
tally refer  me  as  they  gazed  at  me  ?  They  certainly 
surveyed  me  attentively.  I  continued  to  walk  in  the 
direction  which  the  young  monk  had  pointed  out  to  me. 

An  old   man  in  black  garments,  with  thick  gray  eye- 


DRIVE    TO    THE    MONASTERY  275 

brows,  met  me  on  the  narrow  path  that  led  to  the  cells 
and  asked  me  what  I  wanted. 

There  was  a  minute  when  I  wanted  to  say  "  Nothing," 
run  back  to  the  cab,  and  drive  home,  but,  in  spite  of  his 
threatening  eyebrows,  the  old  man's  countenance  inspired 
confidence.  I  said  that  I  wanted  to  see  the  father  con- 
fessor, giving  his  name. 

"  Come,  young  gentleman,  I  will  take  you  there ! "  he 
said,  turning  back,  and  evidently  guessing  my  predica- 
ment. "  The  father  is  at  morning  mass,  but  he  will  be 
here  soon." 

He  opened  the  door,  and  through  a  clean  hall  and  ante- 
chamber led  me  over  a  neat  canvas  strip  to  the  cell. 

"  You  wait  here,"  he  said,  with  a  kind-hearted,  soothing 
expression,  and  went  out. 

The  room  in  which  I  found  myself  was  very  small  and 
was  kept  exceedingly  clean.  The  furniture  consisted  of  a 
small  table  covered  with  oilcloth,  standing  between  two 
tiny  double  windows,  upon  which  stood  two  pots  of  gera- 
niums, of  a  small  stand  with  images  and  a  lamp  hanging 
before  them,  of  one  armchair  and  two  straight  chairs.  In 
the  corner  hung  a  clock,  with  a  flower  design  on  its  face 
and  brass  weights  on  a  chain  ;  on  the  partition,  which 
was  connected  with  the  ceiling  by  whitewashed  wooden 
crosspieces  (behind  which,  no  doubt,  was  a  bed),  two 
cowls  hung  upon  nails. 

The  windows  faced  a  white  wall  which  was  within  six 
feet  of  them.  Between  them  and  the  wall  was  a  small 
lilac  bush.  No  sound  reached  the  room  from  without,  so 
that  in  that  silence  the  even,  pleasant  click  of  the  pendu- 
lum appeared  as  a  loud  noise.  The  moment  I  was  left 
alone  in  that  quiet  corner,  all  my  former  thoughts  and 
reminiscences  leaped  out  of  my  head  as  if  they  had  never 
been  there,  and  I  was  all  merged  in  inexpressibly  pleasant 
contemplation.  That  faded  nankeen  hood  with  thread- 
bare lining,  those  well-thumbed  black  leather  bindings  of 


276  YOUTH 

the  books  with  their  brass  clasps,  those  turbidly  green 
flowers  with  their  carefully  watered  earth  and  washed 
leaves,  but  particularly  that  monotouous,  broken  sound  of 
the  pendulum,  spoke  to  liie  distinctly  of  a  new,  heretofore 
unfamiliar  life,  of  a  life  of  seclusion^  ptayer,  and  quiet, 
peaceful  happiness. 

"  Mouths  pass,  years  pass,"  I  thought,  "  and  he  is 
always  alone,  always  calm,  always  feels  that  his  con- 
science is  clean  before  God  and  that  his  prayer  will 
be  heard  by  liim."  I  sat  about  half  an  hour  In  tny  chair, 
trying  not  to  move  and  not  to  breathe  audibly,  in  order 
not  to  disturb  the  harmony  of  tlie  sounds  that  told  me 
so  much.  And  the  petiduluin  continued  ticking,  loudet 
toward  the  right,  softer  toward  the  left. 


VIII. 

MY    SECOND    CONFESSION 

The  steps  of  the  priest  broke  my  meditation. 

"  Good  morning,"  he  said,  smoothing  his  gray  hair  with 
his  hand.     "  What  do  you  wish  ? " 

I  asked  him  to  bless  me,  and  with  especial  pleasure 
kissed  his  small  yellow  hand. 

When  I  explained  to  him  my  request,  he  said  nothing, 
but  walked  up  to  the  images  and  began  the  confession. 

When  the  confession  was  finished,  and  I,  overcoming 
my  shame,  told  him  all  that  was  upon  my  soul,  he  placed 
his  hands  upon  my  head,  and  pronounced  with  his  melo- 
dious, quiet  voice  :  "  The  blessing  of  the  heavenly  Father 
be  over  you,  my  son,  and  may  He  for  ever  preserve  your 
faith,  meekness,  and  humility.     Amen." 

I  was  very  happy.  Tears  of  bliss  welled  up  in  my 
throat,  I  kissed  the  fold  of  his  kerseymere  cowl,  and 
raised  my  head.     The  monk's  countenance  was  serene. 

I  felt  I  was  enjoying  the  sensation  of  contrition,  and 
fearing  lest  it  should  be  dispersed,  I  hastily  bade  the 
confessor  good-bye,  and,  without  looking  on  either  side,  in 
order  not  to  be  distracted,  left  the  enclosure  and  again 
seated  myself  in  the  jogging,  patched-up  vehicle.  But 
the  jolting  of  the  carriage  and  the  motley  aspect  of  the 
objects  that  flashed  by  my  eyes  soon  dispelled  that  feel- 
ing, and  I  was  thinking  now  of  how  the  father  confessor 
must  be  reflecting  that  he  had  never,  in  all  his  life,  met, 
nor  ever  should  meet,  such  a  beautiful  soul  in  a  young 

277 


278  YOUTH 

man  such  as  I  was,  and  even  that  there  could  not  be  the 
like  of  nie.  I  was  convinced  of  this ;  and  this  conviction 
induced  in  me  a  feehng  of  that  kind  of  happiness  which 
demands  that  it  shall  be  imparted  to  somebody. 

I  was  dying  to  talk  to  somebody ;  and  as  there  was  no 
one  near  at  hand  but  the  cabman,  I  turned  to  him. 

"  Say,  was  I  gone  long  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  Well,  rather  long,  and  it  is  time  to  feed  the  horses, 
for  I  am  a  night  cabman,"  answered  the  old  driver,  who, 
with  the  sun,  had  become  comparatively  livelier  than  he 
had  been  before. 

"  It  seemed  to  me  that  I  was  gone  but  a  minute,"  I 
said.  "  Do  you  know  why  I  went  to  the  monastery  ? " 
I  added,  seating  myself  in  the  lower  part  of  the  vehicle, 
which  was  nearer  to  the  old  man. 

"  What  business  is  that  of  ours  ?  Wherever  our  pas- 
sengers tell  us  to  go,  there  we  go,"  he  answered. 

"  Still,  what  do  you  think,  why  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  suppose  you  went  to  buy  a  lot  to  bury  some- 
body in,"  he  said. 

"  No,  my  friend.     Do  you  know  why  I  went  there  ?" 

"  How  can  I  know,  sir  ?  "  he  repeated. 

The  cabman's  voice  seemed  so  kindly  that  I  decided,  for 
his  edification,  to  tell  him  the  cause  of  my  visit,  and  also 
the  feeling  which  I  was  experiencing. 

"  If  you  wish,  I  will  tell  you.     You  see  —  " 

And  I  told  him  everything,  and  described  all  my 
beautiful  feehngs  to  him.  I  even  now  blush  at  the 
thought  of  it. 

"  Indeed,  sir,"  the  cabman  said,  incredulously. 

He  remained  silent  for  quite  awhile  and  sat  immova- 
ble, now  and  then  fixing  the  fold  of  his  cloak,  which  kept 
disarranging  itself,  between  his  striped  legs  that  leaped 
about  in  their  huge  boots  on  the  foothold  of  the  vehicle. 
I  concluded  that  he,  too,  was  of  the  same  opinion  in 
regard  to  me  as  the  priest ;  that  is,  that  there  was  not  in 


MY    SECOND    CONFESSION  279 

the  whole  world  another  young  man  so  beautiful.  He 
suddenly  turned  round  to  me. 

"  Well,  sir,  yours  is  a  gentlemanly  affair !  " 

"  What  ? "  I  asked. 

"  Your  affair,  I  say,  is  a  gentleman's  affair ! "  he  re- 
peated, mumbling  with  his  toothless  lips. 

"  No,  he  did  not  understand  me,"  I  thought,  and  I  did 
not  say  anything  to  him  until  we  reached  the  house. 

Not  the  feeling  of  contrition  and  piety  itself,  but  satis- 
faction at  having  experienced  it  lasted  during  my  whole 
ride,  in  spite  of  all  the  crowd  that  moved  about  the 
streets  in  the  bright  sunshine ;  but  the  moment  I  reached 
home,  that  feeling  vanished  completely.  I  did  not  have 
the  forty  kopeks  to  pay  the  driver.  Majordomo  Gavrilo, 
to  whom  I  was  already  in  debt,  would  not  loan  me  any 
more.  When  the  driver  saw  me  twice  running  across  the 
yard  in  order  to  get  the  money,  he  guessed  what  I  was 
about,  climbed  down  from  his  vehicle  and,  in  spite  of  his 
apparent  kindliness,  began  to  cry  aloud,  with  the  evident 
desire  of  stinging  me,  that  there  were  certain  cheats  who 
did  not  pay  for  their  rides. 

Everybody  at  home  was  still  asleep,  so  that  I  could  not 
borrow  the  money  from  any  one  but  the  servants.  Finally, 
Vasili,  who  liked  me  and  remembered  the  service  which  I 
had  done  him,  paid  the  driver,  having  first  exacted  my 
most  solemn  word  of  honour,  which,  however,  as  I  saw  by 
his  face,  he  did  not  believe  in  the  least.  Thus  the  feeling 
went  off  as  in  smoke.  When  I  dressed  myself  for  church, 
in  order  to  go  with  the  others  to  receive  the  sacrament, 
and  discovered  that  my  clothes  had  not  been  mended  and 
I  could  not  put  them  on,  I  committed  a  lot  of  sins.  Put- 
ting on  another  suit,  I  went  to  the  sacrament  in  a  strange 
condition  of  hastiness  of  thought  and  with  a  complete 
suspicion  of  my  beautiful  intentions. 


IX. 

HOW   I    PKEPARED    FOE    THE    EXAMINATIONS 

On  Thursday  of  Easter  Week,  papa,  sister,  aud  Mimi, 
with  Katenka,  went  away  to  the  country,  so  that  in 
grandmother's  large  house  only  Volodya,  St.  Jerome,  and 
I  were  left.  My  frame  of  mind  on  the  day  of  the  con- 
fession and  of  my  visit  to  the  monastery  had  completely 
disappeared,  and  had  left  behind  it  only  a  dim,  though 
pleasant,  memory,  which  was  more  and  more  drowned  by 
new  impressions  of  a  free  life. 

The  note-book  with  the  title  "  Eules  of  Life  "  was  put 
away  with  the  other  exercise  books.  Although  the  idea 
that  it  was  possible  to  compose  rules  for  all  circumstances 
of  life,  and  always  to  be  guided  by  them,  pleased  me  and 
seemed  to  me  very  simple  and  at  the  same  time  great, — 
and  I  had  intended  by  all  means  to  apply  the  rules  to 
life,  —  I  somehow  forgot  that  it  had  to  be  done  right 
away,  and  kept  postponing  it  to  some  future  time.  I 
was  pleased  to  find  that  every  idea  which  came  to  my 
mind  fitted  precisely  into  one  of  the  subdivisions  of  my 
rules  and  duties:  into  the  rules  in  regard  to  my  neigh- 
bour, or  to  myself,  or  to  God.  "  I  shall  then  write  it  down 
in  that  category,  together  with  the  mass  of  other  ideas  that 
will  occur  to  me  about  the  same  subject,"  I  said  to  myself. 
I  often  ask  myself  now  :  when  was  I  better  and  juster, 
then,  when  I  believed  in  the  all-power  of  the  human 
mind,  or  now,  when,  having  lost  the  ability  to  develop,  I 

280 


HOW   I    PKEPARED    FOR    THE    EXAMINATIONS     281 

doubt  the  power  and  meaning  of  the  human  mind  ?  and 
I  am  unable  to  give  myself  a  positive  answer. 

The  consciousness  of  freedom  and  that  vernal  feeling 
of  expectancy,  of  which  I  have  spoken  before,  agitated 
me  so  much  that  I  was  absolutely  unable  to  control 
myself,  and  I  prepared  but  badly  for  my  examinations. 
In  the  morning,  while  I  was  working  in  the  class-room 
and  was  conscious  that  I  had  to  work  hard,  because  next 
day  was  the  examination  in  a  subject  of  which  I  had  not 
read  two  whole  questions  as  yet,  suddenly  some  vernal 
fragrance  would  reach  me  through  the  window  and  it 
would  seem  that  I  had  to  recall  something,  and  my 
hands  would  automatically  drop  the  book,  my  feet  begin 
automatically  to  move  and  pace  to  and  fro,  and  I  would 
feel  as  though  somebody  had  touched  a  spring,  and  the 
whole  machine  had  been  put  iu  motion,  and  all  kinds  of 
blissful  thoughts  would  begin  to  course  through  my  head 
so  lightly,  naturally,  and  swiftly,  that  I  could  perceive 
only  their  Hashing.  And  thus  an  hour  or  two  would 
pass  unobserved. 

Or  I  would  be  reading  some  book  and  concenti;ating 
my  attention  upon  what  I  was  reading,  when  I  would 
hear  feminine  steps  and  the  rustle  of  a  dress  in  the  corri- 
dor, —  and  everything  would  leap  out  of  my  head,  and  I 
could  no  longer  sit  in  one  place,  although  I  knew^  full  well 
that  nobody  had  crossed  the  corridor  but  Gasha,  grand- 
mother's old  maid.  "  But,  suppose  it  should  suddenly  be 
she?"  it  would  occur  to  me.  -''Suppose  it  is  beginning 
now,  and  I  should  lose  my  chance  ? "  and  I  would  rush 
out  into  the  corridor,  and  convince  myself  that  it  was 
really  Gasha.  Yet  it  would  be  some  time  after  that  before 
I  could  control  my  head.  The  spring  was  touched,  and 
again  there  was  a  terrible  pandemonium. 

Or,  again,  I  would  be  sitting  in  the  evening  by  a  tallow 
caudle  in  my  room.  Suddenly  I  would  tear  myself  away 
from  my  book  for  a  moment,  to  snuff  the  candle  or  settle 


282  YOUTH 

myself  in  the  chair,  and  I  would  see  that  it  was  dark  in 
all  the  doors  and  corners,  and  hear  that  it  was  quiet 
in  the  whole  house,  —  and,  of  course,  I  could  not  help 
stopping  and  listening  to  that  silence,  and  looking  at  that 
darkness  of  the  door  that  opened  into  a  dark  room,  and 
for  a  long  time  remaining  in  an  immovable  position,  or 
walking  through  all  the  empty  rooms  of  the  house.  Fre- 
quently, too,  I  used  to  sit  through  the  evenings  unnoticed 
in  the  parlour,  listening  to  the  sound  of  the  "  nightingale  " 
which  Gasha,  sitting  all  alone  in  the  parlour  by  a  tallow 
dip,  was  playing  on  the  piano  with  two  fingers.  And  in 
the  moonlight  I  could  not  help  rising  from  my  bed,  and, 
leaning  over  the  window-sill  into  the  garden,  I  would  gaze 
at  the  illuminated  roof  of  Shapdshnikov's  house,  and  at 
the  stately  bell-tower  of  our  parish,  and  the  evening 
shadows  of  the  fence  and  the  shrubbery,  which  lay  across 
the  garden  path ;  I  could  not  help  staying  there  so  long 
that  I  later  could  not  wake  before  ten  o'clock. 

So  if  it  had  not  been  for  the  teachers  that  came  to  me, 
and  for  St.  Jdrome,  who  now  and  then  unwillingly  fired 
my  ambition,  and,  mainly,  for  the  fact  that  I  was  anxious 
to  appear  as  a  fine  fellow  in  the  eyes  of  my  friend  Nekh- 
lyiidov,  that  is,  to  pass  excellent  examinations,  which, . 
according  to  him,  was  a  very  important  matter,  —  if  it 
had  not  been  for  all  that,  —  spring  and  freedom  would 
have  made  me  forget  everything  I  ever  knew,  and  I 
should  never  have  been  able  to  pass  my  examinations. 


MY   HISTORY    EXAMINATION 

On  April  16th  I  entered  for  the  first  time  the 
university  hall  under  the  guidance  of  St.  Jerome.  We 
drove  there  in  our  sufficiently  foppish  phaeton.  I  had 
on  a  dress  coat,  for  the  first  time  in  my  life,  and  all  my 
clothes,  even  my  linen  and  stockings,  were  new  and  of 
the  best.  When  the  doorkeeper  took  off  my  overcoat 
down-stairs,  and  I  stood  before  him  in  all  the  splendour 
of  my  dress,  I  felt  a  httle  ashamed  at  being  so  strikingly 
magnificent.  Yet  the  moment  I  entered  the  bright  par- 
queted hall,  filled  with  people,  and  noticed  the  hundreds 
of  young  men  in  Gymnasium  uniforms  and  dress  coats, 
some  of  whom  looked  at  me  with  indifference,  and  noticed 
at  the  farther  end  the  solemn  professors,  who  freely  moved 
about  between  the  tables,  or  sat  in  large  armchairs,  I 
at  once  felt  disappointed  in  my  hope  of  directing  uni- 
versal attention  to  myself,  and  the  expression  of  my  face, 
upon  which  at  home  and  even  in  the  antechamber  had 
been  written  compassion  for  making  against  my  will 
such  a  noble  and  distinguished  appearance,  was  exchanged 
for  an  expression  of  the  greatest  timidity  and  even  some 
despair.  I  even  fell  into  the  other  extreme,  and  was  very 
happy  when  I  discovered  on  a  near-by  bench  a  care- 
lessly and  uncleanly  dressed,  gray-haired,  though  not  yet 
old,  man,  who  was  sitting  on  the  last  bench,  apart  from 
the  others.  I  immediately  sat  down  near  him,  and  began 
to  watch  the   candidates,  and  to  draw  my   conclusions. 

283 


284  YOUTH 

All  kinds  of  people  were  there,  but,  according  to  the 
opinion  which  I  then  held,  they  could  be  distributed  into 
three  classes. 

There  were  some  who,  like  myself,  had  appeared  at  the 
examination  with  their  tutors  or  parents,  among  their 
number  the  younger  Ivin,  with  the  familiar  Frost,  and 
Iliuka  Grap,  with  his  old  father.  All  these  had  downy 
chins,  wore  fine  linen,  and  sat  quietly,  without  opening 
the  books  and  notes  which  they  had  brought  with  them, 
and  with  perceptible  timidity  looked  at  the  professors  and 
the  examination  tables.  To  the  second  class  of  candi- 
dates belonged  young  men  in  Gynmasium  uniforms, 
many  of  whom  already  shaved.  They  were  mostly 
acquainted  with  each  otlier,  spoke  loud,  called  the  pro- 
fessors by  their  names  and  patronymics,  prepared  their 
questions,  passed  their  note  -  books  to  each  other, 
climbed  across  the  benches,  and  brought  from  the  ante- 
chamber pastry  and  sandwiches,  which  they  devoured 
right  there  in  the  hall,  by  lowering  their  heads  to  the 
level  of  the  benches.  Lastly,  the  candidates  of  the  third 
class,  of  whom,  however,  there  were  not  many,  were  those 
who  were  quite  old  and  wore  dress  coats,  though  more 
frequently  simple  coats,  and  were  apparently  without 
linen.  They  carried  themselves  very  seriously,  sat  apart 
from  the  others,  and  had  a  sombre  aspect.  The  one  who 
had  consoled  me  by  being  dressed  worse  than  I  belonged 
to  that  class.  He  leaned  on  both  his  arms,  passing  his 
fi)igers  through  his  dishevelled  gray  hair,  read  a  book,  and 
only  for  a  moment  gazed  at  me  with  not  very  benevolent, 
beaming  eyes ;  he  frowned  gloomily  and  stretched  out  his 
shiny  elbow  in  my  direction,  so  that  I  should  not  sit 
down  too  close  to  him.  The  Gymnasiasts,  on  the  contrary, 
were  too  affable,  and  I  was  a  little  afraid  of  them.  One 
of  them  put  a  book  into  my  hands  and  said :  "  Give  it  to 
him ; "  another  passed  by  me  and  said,  "  Please  let  me 
by ;"  a  third  leaned  against  me  as  against  a  bench,  while 


MY   HISTORY    EXAMINATION  285 

climbing  over.  All  that  seemed  coarse  and  disagi-eeable 
to  me  ;  I  considered  myself  a  great  deal  higher  than  these 
Gymnasiasts,  and  thought  they  ought  not  to  have  per- 
mitted themselves  such  familiarity  with  me. 

At  last,  names  were  called.  The  Gymnasiasts  stepped 
boldly  forward,  generally  answered  their  questions  well, 
and  returned  in  a  happy  frame  of  mind ;  our  kind  were 
much  more  timid  and  answered,  as  I  thought,  not  so  well. 
Of  the  older  ones,  some  answered  superbly,  others  badly. 
When  Sem^nov  was  called,  my  neighbour  with  the  gray 
hair  and  brilliant  eyes  pushed  me  roughly  and,  stepping 
over  my  legs,  went  to  the  table.  As  could  be  seen  by  the 
faces  of  the  professors,  he  answered  excellently  and  boldly. 
When  he  returned  to  his  seat,  he  did  not  bother  about 
finding  out  what  mark  he  had  received,  but  quietly  took 
up  his  note-books  and  went  out.  I  had  .shuddered  several 
times  at  the  sound  of  the  voice  which  called  out  the 
names,  but  my  turn  had  not  yet  come  in  the  alphabetical 
order,  though  names  beginning  with  I  were  now  called. 
"  Ikonin  and  T^nev "  somebody  suddenly  cried  in  the 
professorial  corner.     A  chill  ran  down  my  back  and  hair. 

"  Whom  did  they  call  ?  Who  is  Bart^nev  ? "  they  said 
all  about  me. 

"  Ikonin,  go,  you  are  called.  But  who  is  Bart(^nev, 
Mord^nev  ?  I  do  not  know,  I  must  confess,"  said  a  tall, 
red-cheeked  Gynmasiast  who  was  standing  behind  me. 

"  You,"  said  St.  Jerome. 

"  My  name  is  Irt^nev,"  I  said  to  the  red-cheeked 
Gymnasiast.     "Did  they  call  Irtenev?" 

"  Why,  yes  !  Why  don't  you  go  ?  I  declare,  what  a 
dandy ! "  he  added  under  his  breath,  but  so  that  I  could 
hear  his  words,  as  I  left  the  bench.  Ahead  of  me  was 
walking  Ikonin,  a  tall  young  man  some  twenty-five  years 
of  age,  who  belonged  to  the  third  class  of  the  ancients. 
He  was  dressed  in  a  tight  olive-coloured  dress  coat,  blue 
satin  necktie,  to  which  ran  down  from  behind  his  long, 


286  YOUTH 

blond  hair,  carefully  combed  a  la  muzhik.  I  had  noticed 
his  face,  while  he  was  still  in  his  seat.  He  was  not  bad- 
looking,  and  was  talkative ;  and  I  was  particularly  struck 
by  the  strange  red  hair  of  his  beard  at  the  neck,  and  still 
more  by  his  strange  habit  of  continually  unbuttoning  his 
vest,  and  scratching  his  chest  uuder  his  shirt. 

Three  professors  were  sitting  at  the  table,  to  which 
Ikonin  and  I  went  up ;  not  one  of  them  returned  our 
greeting.  A  young  professor  shuffled  the  tickets  like  a 
deck  of  cards ;  another  professor,  with  a  decoration  on 
his  dress  coat,  looked  at  a  Gymuasiast  who  was  speaking 
rapidly  about  Charlemagne,  adding  "  finally "  to  every 
word ;  and  a  third  one,  an  old  man  in  spectacles,  bent 
down  his.  head,  looked  at  us  over  his  glasses,  and  pointed 
to  the  tickets.  I  felt  that  his  look  was  directed  simul- 
taneously to  Ikonin  and  to  me,  and  that  something  in  us 
displeased  him  (maybe,  Ikonin's  red  hair),  because  he 
looked  at  us  simultaneously  another  time  and  made  an 
impatient  gesture  with  his  head,  for  us  to  hurry  and  take 
our  tickets.  I  was  angry  and  felt  insulted,  first,  because 
no  one  had  answered  our  greeting,  secondly,  because  I 
was  evidently  classed  with  Ikonin  as  the  same  kind  of 
candidate,  as  though  one  should  l)e  prejudiced  against 
me  for  Ikonin's  red  hair.  I  took  my  ticket  without  any 
timidity,  and  was  getting  ready  to  answer ;  but  the  pro- 
fessor pointed  with  his  eyes  to  Ikonin.  I  read  my  ticket : 
I  was  familiar  with  the  question,  and,  waiting  patiently 
for  my  turn,  I  watched  what  was  going  on  in  front  of 
me.  Ikonin  was  not  in  the  least  frightened,  and  moved 
forward  boldly,  somehow  with  his  whole  side,  to  take  his 
ticket,  shook  his  hair,  and  courageously  read  what  was 
written  down  on  his  ticket.  He  opened  his  mouth,  as  I 
thought,  to  answer,  when  the  professor  with  the  decora- 
tion, who  had  just  dismissed  the  Gymnasiast,  looked  at  him. 
Ikonin  seemed  to  remember  something,  and  stopped.  A 
universal  silence  lasted  for  about  two  minutes. 


MY    HISTORY    EXAMINATION  287 

"  Well,"  said  the  professor  in  the  spectacles. 

Ikouin  opened  his  mouth  and  again  stopped. 

"  You  are  not  the  only  person  here  ;  so,  will  you  answer, 
or  not  ? "  said  the  young  professor,  but  Ikonin  did  not 
even  look  at  him.  He  gazed  fixedly  at  the  ticket,  and 
did  not  pronounce  a  word.  The  professor  in  the  spectacles 
looked  at  him  through  his  glasses  and  over  his  glasses, 
and  without  his  glasses,  for  he  had  in  the  meantime  taken 
them  down,  carefully  cleaned  them,  and  put  them  on 
again.  Ikonin  did  not  pronounce  a  word.  Suddenly  a 
smile  flashed  on  his  face,  he  shook  his  hair,  again  moving 
his  whole  side  at  once,  turned  to  the  table,  put  down  the 
ticket,  glanced  at  all  the  professors  in  succession,  then  at 
me,  turned  about,  and  with  a  bold  step,  waving  his  arms, 
returned  to  the  bench.  The  professors  looked  at  each 
other. 

"He  is  a  good  one!"  said  the  young  professor.  "A 
pay  student ! " 

I  moved  up  to  the  table,  but  the  professors  continued 
to  speak  in  a  whisper  to  each  other,  as  if  they  did  not 
even  suspect  my  presence.  I  was  then  firmly  convinced 
that  all  three  professors  were  particularly  interested  to 
know  whether  I  should  pass  my  examination,  and  whether 
I  should  pass  well,  and  that  they  only  pretended,  to  show 
off  their  dignity,  that  it  was  a  matter  of  indifference  to 
them,  and  they  did  not  notice  me. 

When  the  professor  in  the  spectacles  turned  to  me 
indifferently  and  invited  me  to  answer  the  question,  I 
looked  at  his  eyes  and  felt  a  little  ashamed  for  him  for 
his  duplicity  before  me,  and  at  first  faltered  in  my  answer  ; 
but  it  soon  went  easier  and  easier,  and  as  the  question  was 
in  Russian  history,  which  I  knew  excellently,  I  made  a 
brilliant  showing,  and,  in  my  desire  to  let  the  professors 
know  that  I  was  not  Ikonin,  and  that  I  should  not  be 
mixed  up  with  him,  went  so  far  as  to  offer  to  take  another 
ticket.     But  the  professor  shook  his  head,  and  said  :  "  That 


288  YOUTH 

will  do,  sir  ! "  and  put  down  a  mark  in  his  book.  "When 
I  returned  to  the  benches,  I  immediately  learned  from 
the  Gymnasiasts,  who  had  found  it  out,  God  knows  how, 
that  I  had  received  a  five  mark. 


XI. 

MY   MATHEMATICS    EXAMINATION 

At  the  following  examinations  I  had  a  number  of  new 
acquaintances,  in  addition  to  Grap,  whom  I  considered 
unworthy  of  my  friendship,  and  Ivin,  who  was  rather 
shy  of  me.  Some  of  them  greeted  me.  Ikonin  was  glad 
to  see  me,  and  informed  me  that  he  would  be  reexamined 
in  history,  and  that  the  professor  of  history  had  a  grudge 
against  him  from  last  year's  examination,  at  which  he 
had  made  him  fail.  Semenov,  who  was  entering  the 
same  faculty  as  I,  the  mathematical,  kept  away  from  all 
the  others  until  the  end  of  his  examinations,  sat  silently 
by  himself,  leaning  on  his  arms,  and  passing  his  fingers 
through  his  gray  hair,  and  answered  his  examinations 
excellently.  He  was  second.  A  Gymnasiast  of  the  First 
Gymnasium  was  first.  He  was  a  tall,  lean  fellow  of  dark 
complexion,  very  pale,  his  cheek  tied  up  with  a  black  necktie, 
and  his  brow  covered  with  pimples.  His  hands  were  lean 
and  red,  with  extremely  long  fingers,  and  nails  so  bitten 
that  the  ends  of  his  fingers  seemed  to  be  tied  with  threads. 
All  that  I  thought  beautiful  and  as  it  should  be  with  a 
"  First  Gymnasiast."  He  spoke  to  every  one  like  anybody 
else,  and  I  became  acquainted  with  him,  but  I  judged 
from  his  carriage,  the  movement  of  his  lips  and  black 
eyes,  that  there  was  something  extraordinary,  something 
"magnetic,"  in  them. 

I  came  earlier  than  usual  to  my  mathematical  examina- 
tion.    I    knew    my    subject    well,   but   there   were    two 

289 


290  YOUTH 

questions  iu  algebra  which  I  had  concealed  from  my 
teacher,  and  which  were  entirely  unknown  to  me.  Those 
were,  as  far  as  I  remember  now,  the  theory  of  associa- 
tions, and  Newton's  binomial.  I  sat  down  on  the  back 
bench,  and  looked  over  the  two  unfamiliar  questions ;  but 
not  being  accustomed  to  work  in  a  noisy  room,  and  not 
having  sufficient  time,  a  fact  of  which  I  was  conscious,  I 
was  not  able  to  concentrate  my  mind  on  my  reading. 

"  Here  he  is,  come  here,  Nekhlyiidov  ! "  I  heard  behind 
me  Volodya's  famiUar  voice. 

I  turned  round  and  saw  my  brother  and  Du])k6v,  who 
were  walking  up  to  me  between  the  benches  with  their 
coats  unbuttoned,  and  swinging  their  arms.  One  could 
immediately  see  that  they  were  students  of  the  second 
year,  who  were  at  home  in  the  university.  The  mere 
aspect  of  the  unbuttoned  coats  expressed  contempt  for  us 
fellows,  the  candidates,  and  they  inspired  us,  in  turn,  with 
envy  and  respect.  I  was  very  much  flattered  by  the 
thought  that  all  persons  about  me  could  see  that  I  was 
acquainted  with  two  students  of  the  second  year,  and  I 
swiftly  rose  to  meet  them. 

Volodya  could  not  keep  from  expressing  his  feeling  of 
superiority. 

"  Oh,  you  miserable  fellow  ! "  he  said.  "  Have  you  not 
been  examined  yet  ? " 

"  No." 

"  What  are  you  reading  ?     Are  you  not  prepared  ? " 

"Not  quite  in  two  questions.  I  do  not  understand 
this." 

"  What  ?  This  ? "  said  Volodya,  and  began  to  explain 
Newton's  binomial  to  me,  but  so  rapidly  and  indistinctly 
that,  reading  suspicion  of  his  knowledge  in  my  eyes,  he 
looked  at  Dmitri,  and,  reading  the  same  in  his  eyes,  no 
doubt,  he  blushed,  but  continued  to  talk  that  which  I  did 
not  understand. 

"  No,  wait,  Volodya !     Let  me  go  it  over  with  him,  if 


MY    MATHEMATICS    EXAMINATION  291 

there  is  time,"  said  Dmitri,  lookiug  at  the  professors' 
corner,  and  seating  himself  by  my  side. 

I  noticed  at  once  that  my  friend  was  in  that  contented, 
meek  frame  of  mind  which  always  came  over  him  when 
he  was  satisfied  with  himself,  and  which  I  especially 
admired  in  him.  As  he  knew  mathematics  well,  and 
spoke  distinctly,  he  explained  the  question  so  clearly,  that 
I  remember  it  even  now.  No  sooner  had  he  finished  than 
St.  Jerome  called  out  in  a  loud  whisper,  ''A  vous,  Nicolas!" 
and  I  followed  Ikdnin  out  of  the  bench,  without  having 
had  time  to  touch  the  other  unfamiliar  question.  I 
walked  up  to  the  table,  where  two  professors  were  seated, 
and  a  Gymnasiast  was  standing  at  the  blackboard.  The 
Gymnasiast  was  writing  out  a  formula  with  much  energy, 
noisily  breaking  the  chalk  against  the  board,  and  con- 
tinued to  write,  although  the  professor  had  told  him  long 
ago,  "  That  will  do,"  and  had  ordered  us  to  draw  tickets. 
"  What  if  I  should  get  the  theory  of  associations ! "  I 
thought,  drawing  with  trembling  fingers  a  ticket  from  a 
soft  mass  of  bits  of  paper.  Ikdnin,  with  the  same  bold 
gesture  as  at  the  previous  examination,  swaying  with  his 
whole  side  took  the  topmost  ticket,  without  much  choos- 
ing, looked  at  it,  and  frowned  angrily. 

"  I  get  nothing  but  these  little  devils ! "  he  grumbled. 

I  looked  at  mine.  0  terror !  it  was  the  theory  of 
associations ! 

"  What  have  you  ? "  asked  Ikdnin. 

I  showed  him. 

"  I  know  that,"  he  said. 

"  Let  us  exchange." 

"  No,  it  does  not  make  any  difference.  I  do  not  feel 
like  it,"  Ikdnin  had  barely  whispered  when  the  professor 
called  us  to  the  board. 

"  Well,  all  is  lost !  "  I  thought.  "  Instead  uf  a  brilliant 
examination,  which  I  had  intended  to  pass,  I  shall  cover 
myself  with  shame  for  ever,  worse  than  Ikdnin."     But 


292  YOUTH 

suddenly  Ikouin  turned  to  me,  under  the  eyes  of  the  pro- 
fessor, pulled  the  ticket  out  of  my  hands,  and  gave  me 
his.     I  looked  at  the  ticket.     It  was  Newton's  binomial. 

The  professor  was  not  a  very  old  man,  and  had  a  pleas- 
ant, intelHgent  expression,  which  was  produced  mainly  by 
the  large  protruding  lower  part  of  his  forehead. 

"  What  is  that  ?  You  are  exchanging  tickets,  gentle- 
men ? "  he  said. 

"  No,  he  just  let  me  look  at  his,  Mr.  Professor,"  Ikonin 
had  the  presence  of  mind  to  say,  and  again  "  Mr.  Profes- 
sor "  was  the  last  word  which  he  pronounced  in  that  place  ; 
and  again,  as  lie  passed  by  me,  he  glanced  at  the  professors 
and  at  me,  smiled  and  shrugged  his  slioulders,  with  an 
expression  which  said : 

"  It's  all  right,  my  friend  ! "  (I  later  learned  that  it  was 
the  third  year  Ikonin  had  been  coming  to  the  entrance 
examinations.) 

I  answered  my  question  excellently,  for  I  had  just  had 
it  explained  to  me,  —  the  professor  even  said  that  I 
had  passed  it  better  than  could  be  expected,  and  gave  me 
a  five  mark. 


XII. 

THE    LATIN    EXAMINATION 

Everything  went  well  up  to  the  time  of  the  Latin 
examination.  The  bundlecl-up  Gymnasiast  was  first,  Se- 
m^nov  second,  I  third.  I  even  began  to  grow  proud  and 
seriously  to  think  that,  in  spite  of  my  youth,  I  was 
somebody. 

Even  at  the  first  examination  all  told  with  trembling 
of  the  Latin  professor,  who  was  a  beast  and  took  delight 
in  the  ruin  of  young  men,  particularly  pay  students,  and 
who,  it  was  asserted,  never  spoke  but  in  Latin  or  Greek. 
St.  Jerome,  who  had  been  my  teacher  of  Latin,  encouraged 
me,  and  I  myself  thought  I  was  prepared  not  worse  than 
the  others,  since  I  had  translated  Cicero  and  a  few  odes  of 
Horace  without  a  dictionary,  and  knew  Zumpt  by  heart. 
We  heard  all  the  morning  of  nothing  but  the  ruin  of 
those  who  were  examined  before  me ;  to  one  the  professor 
gave  zero,  to  another  one,  a  third  canditate  he  called 
names  and  wanted  to  put  out,  and  so  on.  Only  Sem^nov 
and  the  "  First "  Gymnasiast  walked  out  calmly  as  before, 
and  returned,  having  received  five  each.  I  had  a  presen- 
timent of  my  misfortune,  when  Ikonin  and  I  were  called 
to  the  small  table  at  which  the  terrible  professor  was 
seated  all  by  himself.  The  terrible  professor  was  a  small, 
lean,  sallow  man,  with  long,  greasy  hair,  and  a  very  pen- 
sive countenance.  He  handed  to  Ikonin  a  volume  of 
C'cero's  speeches,  and  told  him  to  translate.    To  my  great 

293 


294  YOUTH 

astonishment,  Ikonin  not  only  read,  but  even  translated  a 
few  lines  with  the  aid  of  the  professor,  who  helped  him 
out.  As  I  felt  my  superiority  before  so  weak  a  rival,  I 
could  not  help  smiling,  even  somewhat  contemptuously, 
when  it  came  to  the  analysis,  and  Ikonin,  as  formerly, 
was  merged  in  inextricable  silence.  I  had  intended  to 
win  the  professor's  favour  with  that  intelligent,  slightly 
derisive  smile,  but  it  turned  out  quite  differently. 

"  You,  no  doubt,  know  it  better,  since  you  smile,"  said 
the  professor  to  me  in  bad  Piussian.  "  We  shall  see. 
Now,  you  tell  it." 

Later  I  learned  that  the  professor  of  Latin  favoured 
Ikonin,  and  that  Ikonin  was  even  living  at  his  house.  I 
immediately  answered  the  question  on  syntax  which  had 
been  put  to  Ik(5niu,  but  the  professor  assumed  a  sad 
expression  and  turned  away  from  me. 

"  Very  well,  sir,  your  turn  will  come,  and  we  shall  see 
what  you  know,"  he  said,  without  looking  at  me,  and 
began  to  explain  to  Ikonin  the  question  he  had  asked 
him. 

"  That  will  do,"  he  added,  and  I  saw  him  mark  Ikonin 
four  in  the  book  of  marks.  "  Well,"  I  thought,  "  he  is 
not  at  all  so  severe  as  they  ,said."  After  Ikonin  had 
gone,  he  for  a  full  five  minutes,  which  appeared  to  me 
like  five  hours,  arranged  the  books  and  tickets,  cleared 
his  nose,  straightened  out  the  chairs,  threw  himself  into 
one,  stared  at  the  hall,  around  him,  and  everywhere,  only 
not  at  me.  All  that  feigning  did  not  seem  sufficient  to 
him,  so  he  opened  a  book  and  pretended  he  was  reading 
it,  as  if  T  did  not  exist  for  him  at  all.  I  moved  up  and 
coughed. 

"  Oh,  yes  !  You  !  Well,  translate  something,"  he  said, 
handing  me  a  book ;  "  or  no,  you  had  better  take  this." 
He  turned  the  pages  of  Horace,  and  opened  it  at  a  passage 
which,  I  was  sure,  nobody  cculd  ever  translate. 

"  I  did  not  prepare  this,"  1  said. 


THE    LATIN    EXAMINATION  295 

"  Oh,  you  want  to  auswev  ouly  what  you  have  learned 
by  rote  !     Very  well !     No,  you  translate  this  ! " 

I  managed  to  make  some  sense  out  of  it,  but  the 
professor  shook  his  head  at  every  questioning  glance  of 
mine,  and,  sighing,  answered  only  "  No."  At  last,  he 
closed  the  book ;  he  did  it  so  swiftly  and  nervously  that 
he  caught  his  finger  between  the  leaves  ;  he  angrily  pulled 
it  out,  gave  me  a  ticket  in  grammar,  and,  leaning  back  in 
his  chair,  was  most  ominously  silent.  I  started  to  answer, 
but  the  expression  of  his  face  fettered  my  tongue,  and 
everything  I  said  sounded  wrong  to  me. 

"  Not  that,  not  at  all  that,"  he  suddenly  burst  out  in  his 
horrible  pronunciation,  rapidly  changing  his  position, 
leaning  on  the  table  and  playing  with  his  gold  ring,  which 
fitted  badly  on  the  lean  finger  of  his  left  hand.  "  Gentle- 
men, it  will  not  do  to  be  prepared  in  such  a  manner  for 
a  higher  institution  of  learning:  you  are  thinking  only 
of  wearing  a  uniform  with  a  blue  collar,  and  you  snap 
up  the  tops  of  things,  and  imagine  that  you  can  be 
students ;  no,  gentlemen,  you  must  begin  your  subjects 
in  a  thorough  manner,"  and  so  forth  in  the  same  strain. 

All  during  his  speech,  which  was  pronounced  in  very 
faulty  language,  I  looked  with  dull  attention  at  his  droop- 
ing eyes.  At  first  I  was  tormented  by  the  disappointment 
that  I  should  not  be  third,  then  by  the  fear  that  I  should 
not  pass  my  examination  at  all ;  finally  there  was  added 
to  this  the  feeling  of  injustice,  offended  self-esteem,  and 
undeserved  humihation  ;  in  addition,  a  contempt  for  the 
professor  for  not  meeting  my  conception  of  a  man  comme 
il  faut,  which  I  discovered  when  I  saw  his  short,  strong, 
and  round  nails,  still  more  fanned  these  feelings  and  made 
them  venomous.  Lookhig  at  me,  and  noticing  my  quiver- 
ing lips  and  eyes  filled  with  tears,  he  evidently  explained 
my  agitation  as  a  request  that  he  should  give  me  a  better 
mark,  and,  as  though  taking  pity  on  me,  he  said  (in  tlie 
presence  of  another  professor,  who  had  just  stepped  up)  : 


296  YOUTH 

"  Very  well,  I  shall  give  you  a  pass  mark "  (which 
meant  two),  '•  though  you  do  not  deserve  it,  but  I  do  so 
out  of  consideration  for  your  youth,  and  in  the  hope  that 
you  will  not  be  so  frivolous  in  the  university." 

The  last  sentence,  which  was  said  in  the  presence  of  a 
strange  professor,  who  looked  at  me  as  if  to  say,  "  Yes, 
you  see,  young  man  ?  "  completely  undid  me.  There  was 
a  minute  when  my  eyes  were  clouded:  the  terrible  pro- 
fessor, with  his  table,  appeared  to  me  to  be  sitting  a  long 
distance  off,  and  the  wild  idea  passed  through  my  mind 
with  terrible,  one-sided  clearness  :  "  Suppose  —  what 
would  happen  ? "  But,  for  some  reason,  I  did  not  do  it ; 
on  the  contrary,  I  bowed  very  respectfully,  though  uncon- 
sciously, to  both  the  professors,  and,  smiling  softly,  the 
same  smile,  I  thought,  Ikonin  had  smiled,  went  away  from 
the  table. 

That  injustice  affected  me  so  powerfully  that,  if  I  had 
been  free  to  do  as  I  chose,  I  should  not  have  gone  to  the 
other  examinations.  I  lost  every  ambition  (I  no  longer 
could  hope  to  be  third),  and  I  passed  all  the  following 
examinations  without  the  least  preparation  or  anxiety.  I 
received  as  an  average  four  with  a  fraction,  but  that  no 
longer  interested  me.  I  decided,  and  proved  it  to  my  full 
satisfaction,  that  it  was  very  stupid,  and  even  mauvais 
genre  to  try  to  be  first,  but  that  one  ought  to  endeavour 
not  to  have  one's  standing  either  too  good  or  too  bad,  just 
like  Volddya.  I  made  up  my  mind  to  stick  to  this  plan 
in  the  university,  though  in  this  I  departed  for  the  first 
time  from  the  opinion  of  my  friend. 

I  now  thought  only  of  my  uniform,  the  cocked  hat,  my 
own  vehicle,  my  own  room,  and,  above  all,  my  personal 
freedom. 


XIII. 

I    AM    A    GEOWX-UP    MAN 

However,  these  thoughts  had  their  charm,  too. 

When  I  returned  on  the  8th  of  May  from  my  last 
examination,  in  religion,  I  found  at  home  an  apprentice 
from  Eozanov,  who  had  before  brought  a  basted  uniform 
and  a  coat  of  smooth  black  cloth  with  a  sheen,  and  had 
marked  the  lapels  with  chalk ;  he  now  brought  the  com- 
pleted suit,  with  shining  gold  buttons,  wrapped  in  papers. 

I  put  on  the  suit  and  found  it  beautiful,  in  spite  of  St. 
Jerome's  assurance  that  the  back  of  the  coat  wrinkled.  I 
went  down-stairs  with  a  self-satisfied  smile,  which  invol- 
untarily spread  over  my  whole  countenance,  and  went  to 
Volodya's  room,  feehng,  though  pretending  not  to  notice, 
the  glances  of  the  servants,  which  were  eagerly  directed 
toward  me  from  the  antechamber  and  the  corridor. 
Gavrilo,  the  majordomo,  caught  up  with  me  in  the  par- 
lour, congratulated  me  on  my  entering  the  university, 
presented  to  me,  by  papa's  order,  four  twenty-five  rouble 
bills,  and  said  that,  also  by  papa's  order,  from  that  day  on 
coachman  Kuzma,  a  vehicle,  and  the  bay,  Beauty,  were  at 
my  entire  disposal.  I  was  so  rejoiced  at  this  almost 
unexpected  happiness  that  I  was  unable  to  feign  indiffer- 
ence before  Gavrilo,  and,  after  a  moment  of  confusion  and 
hesitation,  I  said  the  first  thing  that  occurred  to  me,  —  I 
think  it  was,  "  Beauty  is  an  excellent  trotter." 

I  glanced  at  the  heads  that  stuck  through  the  doors  of 
the  antechamber  and  the  corridor,  and,  not  being  able  to 

297 


298  YOUTH 

hold  myself  in  any  longer,  raced  through  the  parlour  in 
my  new  overcoat  with  the  shining  gold  buttons.  As  I 
entered  Volddya's  room,  I  heard  behind  me  the  voices  of 
Dubkov  and  Nekhlyudov,  who  had  come  to  congratulate 
me  and  to  propose  that  we  drive  out  for  dinner  and 
drink  champagne  in  honour  of  my  entering  the  university. 
Dmitri  said  to  me  that,  though  he  did  not  like  to  drink 
champagne,  he  would  drive  out  with  us  to-day,  in  order 
to  drink  "  brotherhood  "  with  me.  Dubkov  said  that  I 
somehow  resembled  a  colonel ;  Volodya  did  not  congrat- 
ulate me,  and  very  drily  said  that  two  days  later  we 
could  go  into  the  country.  Although  he  was  glad  of  my 
success,  it  looked  as  if  he  were  a  little  annoyed  at  my 
being  now  just  such  a  grown  person  as  he.  St.  J6'8me, 
who  also  came  to  see  us,  said  in  high-flown  terms  that  his 
duty  was  now  ended,  but  that  he  had  done  all  he  could, 
and  that  the  next  day  he  should  move  to  the  count's 
house.  In  answer  to  all  they  told  me,  I  felt  that  an 
involuntary,  sweet,  happy,  stupidly  self-satisfied  smile  was 
blooming  forth  on  my  face,  and  I  noticed  that  that  smile 
communicated  itself  to  all  who  spoke  with  me. 

And  thus  I  had  no  longer  a  tutor,  I  possessed  my  own 
vehicle,  my  name  was  printed  in  the  list  of  the  students, 
I  wore  a  sword  with  a  sword-knot,  —  sentinels  might 
present  arms  to  me  —  I  was  a  young  man,  and,  I  am 
sure,  I  was  happy. 

We  decided  to  dine  at  Yar's  at  five  o'clock ;  but  as 
Vol6dya  had  driven  out  to  Dubkdv's  house,  and  Dmitri, 
as  usual,  had  disappeared,  saying  that  he  had  some  busi- 
ness before  dinner,  I  was  able  to  pass  two  hours  as  I 
chose.  I  walked  about  the  rooms  for  some  time,  and 
looked  in  all  the  mirrors,  now  with  my  coat  buttoned, 
now  unbuttoned,  now  buttoned  with  the  upper  button 
only,  and  always  it  looked  beautiful  to  me.  Then,  though 
I  had  scruples  about  evincing  too  much  joy,  I  could  not 
restrain  myself,  and  went  to  the  stable  and  carriage  shed 


I    AM    A    GROWN-UP    MAN  299 

to  look  at  Beauty,  Kuzma,  and  the  vehicle  ;  then  I 
returned  and  began  to  walk  through  the  rooms,  looking 
in  the  mirrors  and  counting  the  money  in  my  pocket,  and 
all  the  time  smiling  blissfully.  But  not  an  hour  passed 
before  I  felt  lonely  and  sorry  that  nobody  saw  me  in  such 
a  magnificent  state,  and  I  needed  motion  and  activity. 
So  I  ordered  the  vehicle  out,  and  decided  that  I  had 
better  go  to  Blacksmith  Bridge,  to  make  some  purchases. 

I  recalled  that  Volodya,  upon  entering  the  university, 
had  bought  lithographs  of  horses  by  Victor  Adam,  and 
tobacco,  and  a  pipe,  and  it  seemed  to  me  necessary  to  do 
hkewise. 

While  the  eyes  of  all  were  turned  on  me  from  every 
side,  and  the  sun  brilhantly  shone  upon  my  buttons,  upon 
the  cockade  of  my  hat,  and  upon  my  sword,  I  arrived  at 
Blacksmith  Bridge,  and  stopped  at  the  picture  shop  of 
Dazziaro.  I  looked  all  around  me,  and  walked  in.  I  did 
not  want  to  buy  Adam's  horses,  lest  I  should  be  accused 
of  aping  Volodya,  but,  being  abashed,  and  wishing  to 
choose  as  quickly  as  possible,  in  order  to  save  the  oblig- 
ing clerk  trouble,  I  took  a  water-colour  painting  of  a 
female  head  which  was  standing  in  the  window,  and  paid 
twenty  roubles  for  it.  Yet,  though  I  paid  twenty 
roubles,  I  felt  ashamed  at  having  troubled  two  beautifully 
dressed  clerks  with  such  a  trifle,  and,  at  the  same  time,  I 
thought  they  did  not  pay  me  the  proper  respect.  As 
I  was  desirous  of  letting  them  know  who  I  was,  I  turned 
my  attention  to  a  silver  thing  that  lay  under  a  glass,  and 
upon  learning  that  it  was  a  pencil-case,  costing  eighteen 
roubles,  I  asked  to  have  it  wrapped  up,  and  paid  for  it. 
Having  found  out  that  good  pipe-stems  and  tobacco  could 
be  purchased  in  the  adjoining  tobacco-shop,  I  politely 
bowed  to  the  two  clerks  and  walked  out  into  the  street, 
with  the  picture  under  my  arm.  In  the  neighbouring 
shop,  on  the  sign  of  which  was  painted  a  negro  smoking 
a  cigar,  I  bought,  also  from  a  desire  not  to  imitate  any- 


300  YOUTH 

body,  not  Zhukov's,  but  Turkish  tobacco,  a  Turkish  pipe, 
and  two  linden  and  briar  pipe-stems.  As  I  left  the  shop 
and  walked  to  the  vehicle,  I  saw  Sem^nov,  who  was 
dressed  in  citizen's  clothes  and,  with  drooping  head,  was 
walking  rapidly  along  the  sidewalk.  I  felt  annoyed 
because  he  did  not  recognize  me.  I  called  out  quite  loud, 
"  Drive  up ! "  and,  seating  myself  in  the  vehicle,  caught 
up  vdth  him. 

"  Good  day,"  I  said, 

"  My  regards,"  he  answered,  and  continued  to  walk. 

"  I  see  you  are  not  in  your  uniform  ! "  I  said  to  him. 

Sem^nov  stopped,  blinked,  and  showed  his  teeth,  as 
though  it  pained  him  to  look  into  the  sun,  but,  in  reality,  to 
show  his  indifference  to  my  vehicle  and  uniform,  gazed  at 
me  in  silence,  and  walked  on. 

From  Blacksmith  Bridge  I  drove  to  a  confectioner's  on 
the  Tver  Boulevard,  and  though  I  tried  to  feign  that  it 
was  the  newspapers  that  interested  me  there,  I  could  not 
keep  myself  from  eating  one  pastry  after  another.  Al- 
though I  felt  ashamed  before  the  gentleman  who  kept 
on  looking  at  me  fr^m  behind  his  paper,  I  devoured  in 
rapid  succession  some  eight  cakes  of  every  kind  which 
was  to  be  found  in  the  shop. 

When  I  arrived  at  home  I  felt  some  heartburn ;  but  I 
paid  no  attention  to  it,  and  began  to  examine  my  pur- 
chases. I  was  so  disgusted  with  my  picture  that  I  not 
only  did  not  put  it  in  a  frame,  but  concealed  it  behind 
the  bureau,  where  Volodya  could  not  see  it.  Nor  did  I 
like  a  pencil-case  at  home ;  so  I  put  it  in  the  table,  con- 
soling myself,  however,  with  the  thought  that  it  was  of 
silver,  a  fine  piece  of  work,  and  very  useful  for  a  student. 
But  I  decided  at  once  to  put  to  use  the  smoking  parapher- 
nalia, and  to  test  them. 

I  opened  the  quarter-pound  package,  carefully  filled 
the  Turkish  pipe  with  the  brown,  finely  cut  Turkish 
tobacco,  placed  upon  it  a  burning  piece  of  tinder,  and, 


I    AM    A    GROWN-UP    MAN  301 

taking  the  stem  between  the  middle  and  ring  fingers,  —  a 
position  of  the  hand  which  I  particularly  admired, — 
began  to  puff. 

The  odour  of  the  tobacco  was  very  pleasant,  but  there 
was  a  bitter  taste  in  my  mouth,  and  the  smoke  choked 
me.  I  took  courage,  for  quite  awhile  puffed  ahead,  and 
tried  to  make  smoke  rings,  and  to  breathe  in  the  smoke. 
The  room  was  soon  filled  with  bluish  clouds,  the  pipe 
began  to  snarl,  the  hot  tobacco  bubbled,  and  I  felt  a 
bitterness  in  my  mouth  and  a  shght  whirling  in  my 
head.  I  wanted  to  stop,  and  just  to  take  a  look  at 
myself  in  the  mirror,  but,  to  my  astonishment,  my  legs 
tottered ;  the  room  went  round  in  a  circle,  and  when  I 
looked  into  the  mirror,  to  which  I  had  dragged  myself 
with  difficulty,  I  noticed  that  my  face  was  as  pale  as  a 
sheet.  No  sooner  did  I  seat  myself  on  the  sofa,  than  I 
felt  such  nausea  and  weakness  that  I  concluded  the  pipe 
was  poisonous  to  me,  and  that  I  was  sure  to  die.  I  was 
frightened  in  earnest,  and  was  about  to  call  for  help  and 
send  for  the  doctor. 

This  fear  did  not  last.  I  soon  saw  what  the  matter 
was,  and  for  a  long  time  lay,  weak  and  with  a  terrible 
headache,  upon  the  sofa,  looking  with  dull  attention  at 
the  trade-mark  of  Bostanzhoglo  which  was  represented 
on  the  quarter-pound  package,  at  the  pipe  which  was 
lying  upon  the  floor,  at  the  tobacco  lumps,  and  at  what 
was  left  of  the  pastry,  and  I  thought  in  disappointment 
and  sadness :  "  Evidently  I  am  not  yet  a  grown-up  man, 
if  I  am  not  able  to  smoke  like  others,  and  it  is  not  fated 
that  I  should  hold,  like  others,  my  pipe  between  my 
middle  and  ring  fingers,  and  puff',  and  pass  the  smoke 
through  my  blond  moustache." 

Dmitri,  who  came  for  me  after  four  o'clock,  found  me 
in  that  unfortunate  condition.  But  after  drinking  a  glass 
of  water,  I  was  almost  entirely  well,  and  ready  to  go  with 
him. 


302  YOUTH 

"  What  good  do  you  find  in  smoking  ? "  he  said,  looking 
at  the  traces  of  smoking.  "  This  is  nothing  but  foolish- 
ness and  useless  waste  of  money,  I  have  taken  a  vow 
never  to  smoke.  However,  come !  We  have  to  call  for 
Dubkdv  yet." 


I 


XIV. 

WHAT  DUBKOV'S  AND  VOLODYA'S  OCCUPATIONS  WERE 

The  moment  Dmitri  entered  my  room,  I  saw  by  his 
face,  by  his  gait,  and  by  his  peculiar  gesture,  which  he 
made  every  time  he  was  out  of  sorts,  and  which  consisted 
in  winking  and  jerking  his  head  awry,  as  if  to  rearrange 
his  necktie,  that  he  was  in  his  cold  and  stubborn  frame 
of  mind,  which  came  over  him  when  he  was  dissatisfied 
with  himself,  and  which  always  had  a  chilling  effect  upon 
my  attachment  for  him.  Of  late  I  had  begun  to  observe 
and  judge  the  character  of  my  friend,  but  our  friendship 
did  not  suffer  from  it  in  the  least :  it  was  still  so  young 
and  strong  that  from  whatever  side  I  looked  at  Dmitri  I 
could  not  help  but  consider  him  perfection.  There  were 
two  different  men  in  him,  and  they  both  seemed  beautiful 
to  me.  One,  whom  I  loved  passionately,  was  good,  kind, 
meek,  merry,  and  conscious  of  these  amiable  qualities. 
When  he  was  in  that  mood,  his  whole  exterior,  the  sound 
of  his  voice,  and  all  his  movements  seemed  to  say,  "  I 
am  meek  and  virtuous,  and  I  take  pleasure  in  being  meek 
and  virtuous,  and  you  may  see  it  all."  The  other,  whom 
I  had  ju.st  begun  to  discover,  and  before  whose  majesty 
I  bowed,  was  a  cold  man,  severe  to  himself  and  to  others, 
proud,  fanatically  religious,  and  pedantically  virtuous.  At 
that  particular  moment  he  was  that  second  man. 

With  a  frankness,  which  constituted  a  necessary  condi- 
tion of  our  relation,  I  told  him,  when  we  seated  ourselves 
in  the  vehicle,  that  I  was  pained  and  sad  to  see  him  in 

303 


304  YOUTH 

such  a  heavy  and  disagreeable  frame  of  niiud  on  a  day 
which  was  so  happy  for  me. 

"  No  doubt  something  has  annoyed  you.  Why  do  you 
not  tell  me  ? "  I  asked  him. 

"  Nikoleuka  ! "  he  answered  in  a  leisurely  manner,  nerv- 
ously jerking  his  head  and  winking,  "  if  I  promised  you 
that  1  should  not  conceal  anything  from  you,  you  have 
no  cause  for  suspecting  my  secretiveness.  A  person  can- 
not always  be  in  the  same  mood,  and  if  anything  has 
annoyed  me,  I  am  not  able  to  account  for  it ! " 

"  What  a  wonderfully  frank  and  honest  character  his 
is,"  I  thought,  and  did  not  continue  the  conversation. 

We  reached  Dubkov's  in  silence.  Dubkov's  apartments 
were  unusually  fine,  or  at  least  seemed  so  to  me.  There 
were  everywhere  rugs,  pictures,  curtains,  gay  wall-paper, 
wicker  chairs,  large  armchairs ;  on  the  wall  hung  rifles, 
pistols,  tobacco  pouches,  and  card-paper  animal  heads. 
At  the  sight  of  that  cabinet,  I  saw  at  once  whom  Volodya 
was  imitating  in  fixing  up  his  room.  We  found  Dubkov 
and  Volodya  at  cards.  A  stranger  (a  man  evidently  not  of 
much  importance,  to  judge  by  his  modest  position)  sat 
at  the  table  and  attentively  watched  the  game.  Dubkov 
had  on  a  silk  dressing-gown  and  soft  shoes.  Volodya, 
without  his  coat,  was  sitting  opposite  him,  on  the  sofa, 
and,  to  judge  by  liis  flushed  face  and  the  dissatisfied  and 
cursory  glance  which  he  cast  upon  us,  while  tearing  him- 
self away  from  his  cards  for  a  second,  was  absorbed  in 
the  game.     When  he  saw  me,  he  blushed  even  more. 

"  Well,  it  is  your  deal,"  he  said  to  Dubkov.  I  under- 
stood that  he  was  ill  at  ease,  because  I  had  found  out 
that  he  played  at  cards.  But  there  was  no  consternation 
in  his  look,  —  it  simply  said :  "  Yes,  I  play,  and  you  are 
surprised  because  you  are  young.  This  is  not  only  not 
bad,  but  quite  the  thing  at  our  years." 

I  felt  it  and  understood  it  at  once. 

Dubkov,    however,   did  not   deal  the   cards,  but  rose. 


dubk6v's  and  vol6dya's  occupations     305 

pressed  our  hands,  gave  us  chairs,  and  offered  us  pipes, 
which  we  refused. 

"  So  here  he  is,  our  diplomatist,  the  cause  of  our  cele- 
bration," said  Dubkdv.  "  Upon  my  word,  he  looks  very 
much  like  a  colonel." 

"  Hm  ! "  I  muttered,  again  feeling  a  stupidly  self-satis- 
fied smile  spreading  on  my  face. 

I  respected  Dubkdv  as  only  a  sixteen-year-old  boy  can 
respect  a  twenty-seven-year-old  adjutant,  whom  all  the 
big  people  called  an  exceedingly  fine  young  man,  who 
danced  well  and  spoke  French,  and  who,  at  heart  despising 
my  youth,  endeavoured  to  conceal  this  feelmg. 

In  spite  of  all  my  respect  for  him,  it  was,  God  knows 
why,  during  the  whole  time  of  our  acquaintance,  a  hard 
and  awkward  matter  for  me  to  look  into  his  eyes.  I 
noticed  later  that  there  were  three  kinds  of  people,  into 
whose  eyes  I  found  it  hard  to  look  straight :  those  who 
were  considerably  worse  than  I ;  those  who  were  con- 
siderably better  than  I ;  and  those  to  whom  I  did  not 
dare  to  tell  a  thing  which  both  of  us  knew.  It  may  be, 
Dubkoy  was  better  than  I,  or  it  may  be,  he  was  worse, 
but  this  much  was  certain,  he  lied  a  great  deal,  witliout 
acknowledging  the  fact,  and  I  had  noticed  this  weakness 
in  him,  but,  naturally,  did  not  have  tlie  courage  to  tell 
him  so, 

"  Let  us  play  another  score,"  said  Volddya,  jerking  his 
shoulder  like  papa,  and  shuffling  the  cards. 

"  Why  do  you  insist  ?  "  said  Dubkdv.  "  We  could  finish 
it  later.     However,  let  us  have  it ! " 

While  they  played  I  watched  their  hands.  Volddya 
had  a  beautiful  large  hand,  and  the  division  of  the  thumb 
and  the  curvature  of  the  other  fingers,  as  he  held  the 
cards,  so  resembled  papa's,  that  I  thought  for  a  moment 
Volddya  was  purposely  holding  his  hands  that  way,  in 
order  to  resemble  a  man  ;  but  when  I  observed  his  face, 
it  was  evident  that  he  was  thinking  of  nothing  but  the 


306  YOUTH 

game.  Dubkov's  hands,  on  the  contrary,  were  small, 
fleshy,  bent  inwardly,  very  agile,  and  with  soft  fingers,  — 
just  the  kind  of  hands  upon  which  rings  are  worn,  and 
which  belong  to  people  who  like  to  work  with  them,  and 
love  to  have  beautiful  things. 

Volodya  must  have  lost,  for  the  gentleman,  who  was 
looking  into  his  cards,  remarked  that  Vladimir  Petrdvich 
had  terribly  bad  luck,  and  Dubkov  reached  for  his  port- 
folio, wrote  something  down  in  it,  and,  showing  it  to 
Volodya,  said  :  "  Eight  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Volodya,  looking  with  feigned  indifference 
at  the  note-book,  "  now  let  us  go ! " 

Volodya  took  Dubkov  with  him,  and  Dmitri  took  me 
in  his  phaeton. 

"  What  were  they  playing  ?  "  I  asked  Dmitri. 

"  Piquet.  A  stupid  game,  but,  as  for  that,  all  games 
are  stupid." 

"Do  they  play  for  large  stakes ? " 

"  No,  not  large,  but  it  is  bad  all  the  same." 

"  And  do  you  not  play  ? " 

"  No,  I  have  vowed  not  to  play ;  and  Dubkov  is  bound 
to  win  from  anybody." 

"  But  that  is  not  nice  of  him,"  I  said.  "  Volodya,  no 
doubt,  plays  worse  than  he." 

"  Of  course,  it  is  not  nice ;  but  there  is  nothing  bad 
about  it.  Dubkov  likes  to  play  and  knows  how  to  play, 
but  he  is  an  excellent  man  for  all  that." 

"  I  did  not  mean  to  say  —  "I  said. 

"  There  is  no  reason  for  having  a  bad  opinion  of  him, 
for  he  is  really  a  fine  man.  I  love  him  very  much,  and 
shall  always  love  him,  in  spite  of  his  weakness." 

It  appeared  to  me,  for  some  reason,  that  the  fact  that 
Dmitri  so  warmly  defended  Dubkov  proved  that  he  no 
longer  loved  and  respected  him,  but  did  not  acknowledge 
this  from  stubbornness,  in  order  that  no  one  might  accuse 
him  of  inconstancy.     He  was  one  of  those  men  who  love 


I 


DUBKOV'S    AND    VOLODYA's    OCCUPATIONS      307 

their  friends  all  their  lives,  not  so  much  because  their 
friends  please  them  continually,  as  because  they  consider 
it  dishonourable  to  give  up  a  man,  after  they  have  taken 
a  liking  for  him,  even  if  it  be  by  mistake. 


XV. 

I   AM    CONGRATULA.TED 

DuBKOV  and  Volddya  knew  all  the  people  at  Yar's 
by  their  names,  and  all,  from  the  doorkeeper  to  the  pro- 
prietor, treated  them  with  great  respect.  We  were  shown 
at  once  to  a  separate  room,  and  we  had  a  wonderful  din- 
ner, which  Dubkov  selected  from  a  French  menu.  A 
bottle  of  iced  champagne,  upon  which  I  tried  to  look  with 
entire  indifference,  was  already  prepared.  The  dinner 
passed  very  agreeably  and  merrily,  although  Dubkov,  as 
was  his  habit,  told  a  lot  of  strange  incidents,  which  he 
claimed  were  true,  —  among  them,  how  his  grandmother 
once  killed,  with  a  blunderbuss,  three  brigands  who  had 
attacked  her  (which  made  me  blush  and,  lowering  my  eyes, 
turn  away  from  him),  and  although  Volodya  evidently 
trembled  every  time  I  began  to  say  something  (which 
was  quite  unnecessary,  for,  so  far  as  I  remember,  I  did 
not  say  anything  out  of  the  way).  When  the  champagne 
was  brought,  all  congratulated  me,  and,  crossing  hands,  I 
drank  "  brotherhood  "  with  Dubkov  and  Dmitri,  and  we 
kissed  each  other.  As  I  did  not  know  to  whom  the 
bottle  of  champagne  belonged  (I  later  learned  that  it  was 
the  whole  company's),  and  as  I  wanted  to  treat  my 
friends  with  my  own  money,  which  I  kept  on  fingering  in 
my  pocket,  I  softly  fetched  out  a  ten-rouble  bill  and, 
calling  up  a  waiter,  gave  it  to  him,  and  ordered  him  in  a 
whisper,  l)ut  so  that  they  all  could  hear,  for  they  were 
looking  at  me  in  silence,  to  bring  us  another  half-bottle 

308 


I   AM    CONGRATULATED  oU9 

of  champagne.  Voloclya  blushed,  jerked  his  shoulder, 
and  looked  frightened  at  me  and  at  everybody,  so  that  I 
felt  I  had  made  a  mistake,  but  the  half-bottle  was 
brought,  and  we  drank  it  with  much  enjoyment. 

We  continued  to  have  a  jolly  time.  Dubkov  hed 
without  cessation  ;  Volddya,  too,  told  funny  stories,  —  he 
told  them  better  than  I  had  ever  expected  him  to ;  and 
we  all  laughed  a  great  deal.  The  character  of  their  fun, 
that  is,  Volodya's  and  Dubkov's,  consisted  in  the  imitation 
and  exaggeration  of  certain  anecdotes :  "  Have  you  been 
abroad  ? "  asked  one,  and  the  other  would  answer :  "  No,  I 
have  not,  but  my  brother  plays  the  fiddle."  To  every 
question  they  answered  each  other  in  that  way,  and  even 
without  being  questioned,  they  tried  to  connect  the  most 
incompatible  things,  and  spoke  that  nonsense  with  most 
serious  faces,  —  and  the  result  was  very  funny.  I  began 
to  see  through  their  jokes,  and  wanted  myself  to  say 
something  funny,  but  all  looked  embarrassed  and  tried  not 
to  gaze  at  me  while  I  was  speaking,  and  the  joke  fell  flat. 
Dubkov  said  :  "  You  are  off,  brother  diplomatist ; "  but  I 
was  so  happy  from  the  champagne  I  had  drunk,  and  from 
being  in  the  company  of  big  people,  that  this  remark- 
barely  touched  me.  Only  Dmitri,  who  had  been  drinking 
as  much  as  any  of  us,  remained  in  his  severe,  solemn 
mood,  which  to  a  certain  extent  subdued  the  general 
merriment. 

"  Now,  listen,  gentlemen  !  "  said  Dubkov.  "  After  din- 
ner we  must  take  the  diplomat  into  our  hands.  How 
about  driving  to  '  aunty  '  ?     We  will  fix  him  there !  " 

"  You  know  Nekhlyudov  will  not  go  with  us,"  said 
Volddya. 

"  Intolerable  saint !  You  intolerable  saint ! "  said  Dub- 
kov, turning  to  him.  "  Come  along ;  you  will  see  '  aunty ' 
is  a  nice  lady." 

"  Not  only  will  I  not  go,  but  I  will  not  let  him  either,' 
answered  Dmitri,  blushing. 


310  YOUTH 

"  Wliom  ?  The  diplomat  ?  You  want  to,  diplomat  ? 
Not  ?  Really,  he  all  brightened  up  when  we  mentioned 
'  aunty.' " 

"  I  will  not  exactly  forbid  his  going,"  continued  Dmitri, 
rising  from  his  seat,  and  beginning  to  pace  the  room, 
without  looking  at  me,  "but  I  advise  him  not  to,  and 
I  do  not  want  him  to  go.  He  is  not  a  child  now,  and  if 
he  wishes  to  go  there,  he  can  do  so  without  you.  And 
you,  Dubkdv,  must  be  ashamed  of  your  bad  act,  so  you 
want  others  to  do  likewise." 

"  What  wrong  is  there,"  said  Dubkov,  winking  at 
Volodya,  "  in  inviting  you  all  to  <  aunty's '  for  a  cup  of 
tea  ?  Well,  if  you  do  not  like  to  go  with  us,  Volodya  and 
I  will  go  alone.  ,  Volodya,  do  you  want  to  ? " 

"  Hm,  hm,"  Volodya  said  in  affirmation,  "  let  us  drive 
down  there,  and  then  we  will  return  to  my  room  to  con- 
tinue tlie  piquet." 

"  Well,  will  you  go  with  them  ? "  said  Dmitri,  walking 
up  to  me. 

"  No,"  I  answered,  moving  up  on  the  sofa,  so  as  to  give 
him  a  seat  near  me,  which  he  took,  "  I  do  not  want  to, 
anyway,  and  if  you  advise  me  not  to,  I  certainly  will 
not  go." 

"  No,"  I  added  later,  "  I  told  an  untruth  when  I  said 
I  did  not  want  to  go  with  them ;  but  I  am  glad  I  am  not 
going." 

"  That  is  right,"  he  said,  "  live  your  own  life,  and  do 
not  dance  to  somebody  else's  fiddle.     That  is  best." 

This  short  discussion  did  not  in  the  least  curtail  our 
pleasure,  but  even  increased  it.  Dmitri  suddenly  fell  into 
my  favourite  meek  mood.  The  consciousness  of  a  good 
act,  as  I  often  observed  later,  always  produced  that  effect 
upon  him.  He  was  satisfied  with  himself  for  having 
saved  me.  He  grew  very  jolly,  asked  for  another  bottle 
of  champagne  (which  was  against  his  rules),  called  in  a 
strange  gentleman,  whom  he  began   to   fill   with   wine, 


I    AM    CONGRATULATED  611. 

sang  "  Gaudeamus  igitur,"  asked  all  to  sing  the  refrain, 
and  proposed  to  us  that  we  go  out  driving  to  Sokolniki, 
to  which  suggestion  Dubkov  replied  that  this  was  too 
sentimental. 

"  Let  us  have  a  good  time,"  said  Dmitri,  smiling.  "In 
honour  of  his  entering  the  university  I  will,  upon  my 
word,  drink  myself  drunk  for  the  first  time  in  my  life." 
This  merriment  was  rather  odd  in  Dmitri.  He  resembled 
a  tutor  or  a  good  father,  wdio  is  satisfied  with  his  chil- 
dren, and  wants  to  give  them  pleasure,  and  at  the  same 
time  prove  to  them  that  one  can  enjoy  himself  decently 
and  honestly ;  still,  this  sudden  merriment  acted  con- 
tagiously upon  me  and  upon  the  others,  the  more  so 
since  each  of  us  had  already  consumed  a  half-bottle  of 
champagne. 

In  this  happy  frame  of  mine  I  went  into  the  large 
room,  to  light  the  cigarette  which  Dubkov  had  offered 
me. 

When  I  rose  from  my  seat,  I  noticed  that  my  head 
was  a  little  dizzy,  and  that  my  legs  walked  and  my  hands 
remained  in  a  natural  position  only  as  long  as  I  thought 
of  them  with  concentration.  Otherwise,  my  legs  had 
a  sideways  leaning,  and  my  arms  cut  capers.  I  directed 
all  my  attention  to  these  limbs,  ordered  my  arms  to  be 
lifted  to  button  my  coat,  to  smooth  my  hair  (doing  which 
my  elbows  flew  up  dreadfully),  and  commanded  my  legs 
to  walk  to  the  door,  which  they  executed,  but  they 
stopped  either  too  hard,  or  too  gently,  especially  my  left 
leg,  which  rose  on  tiptoe.  A  voice  called  out  to  me  : 
"  Where  are  you  going  ?  They  will  bring  a  candle  !  "  I 
guessed  that  the  voice  belonged  to  Volodya,  and  I  experi- 
enced a  certain  pleasure  at  the  thought  that  I  had 
guessed  it,  but  I  only  smiled  in  reply,  and  went  on. 


XVI. 

THE    QUARREL 

In  the  large  room  a  short,  thickset  gentleman  in 
citizen's  clothes,  with  a  red  moustache,  was  sitting  at 
a  small  table  and  eating.  By  his  side  sat  a  tall,  dark- 
haired  man  without  a  moustache.  They  were  speaking 
in  French.  Their  gaze  disconcerted .  me,  but  I  de- 
cided, nevertheless,  to  hght  my  cigarette  at  the  candle 
which  was  standing  in  front  of  them.  Looking  about  me, 
so  as  not  to  meet  their  glances,  I  walked  up  to  the  table, 
and  began  to  light  my  cigarette.  When  the  cigarette 
burned,  I  held  out  no  longer,  but  cast  a  look  on  the  gen- 
tleman who  was  dining.  His  gray  eyes  were  directed 
fixedly  and  threateningly  at  me.  I  was  about  to  turn 
away,  when  the  red  moustache  came  in  motion,  and  he 
uttered  in  French :  "  I  object  to  smoking,  sir,  when  I  am 
at  dinner." 

I  muttered  something  unintelHgible. 

"  Yes ;  I  object,"  continued  severely  the  gentleman 
with  the  moustache,  casting  a  cursory  glance  upon  the 
gentleman  without  the  moustache,  as  if  inviting  him  to 
watch  his  belabouring  me.  "  And  I  do  not  like,  sir,  people 
who  are  so  impolite  as  to  smoke  right  before  my  face,  —  I 
do  not  hke  them." 

I  immediately  made  out  that  the  gentleman  was  bad- 
gering me,  but  it  appeared  to  me  at  first  that  I  was  very 
much  to  blame. 

"  I  did  not  think  it  would  incommode  you,"  I  said. 

312 


THE    QUARKEL  313 

"  Oh,  you  did  not  think  you  were  a  boor,  but  I  did ! " 
cried  the  gentleman. 

"  What  right  have  you  to  yell  ? "  I  said,  feeling  that  he 
was  insulting  me,  and  growing  angry  myself. 

"  This  right,  that  I  will  not  permit  any  one  to  fail  in 
his  respect  to  me;  and  I  will  always  teach  such  fine 
fellows  as  you  a  lesson.  What  is  your  name,  sir,  and 
where  do  you  hve  ? " 

I  was  furious,  my  lips  quivered,  and  my  breath  choked 
me.  I  felt  myself  guilty,  no  doubt,  for  having  drunk  too 
much  champagne,  and  I  did  not  rudely  insult  the  gentle- 
man, but,  on  the  contrary,  my  hps  in  the  most  humble 
fashion  gave  him  my  name  and  address. 

"  My  name  is  Kolpikov,  dear  sir,  and  you  had  better 
be  more  civil  next  time.  You  will  hear  from  me  "  (vous 
aurez  de  mes  nouvelles),  he  concluded,  speaking  all  the 
time  in  French. 

I  answered  only,  "  Very  glad,"  trying  to  give  my  voice 
as  much  firmness  as  possible,  turned  about,  and  went  to 
our  room  with  my  cigarette,  which  had  in  the  meantime 
gone  out. 

I  did  not  say  a  word  of  what  had  happened,  either  to 
my  brother,  or  to  my  friend,  particularly  since  they  were 
warmly  discussing  something,  but  seated  myself,  all  alone, 
in  a  corner,  and  began  to  ruminate  over  the  strange  inci- 
dent. "  You  are  a  boor,  sir "  (un  mal  Sieve,  monsieur) 
resounded  in  my  ears,  ever  more  provoking  me.  My 
intoxication  was  all  passed.  When  I  reflected  how  I 
had  acted  in  that  affair,  I  was  suddenly  struck  by  the 
terrible  idea  that  I  had  acted  as  a  coward.  What  right 
did  he  have  to  attack  me  ?  Why  did  he  not  say  simply 
that  it  incommoded  him  ?  It  is  he  who  is  guilty.  Why, 
when  he  told  me  that  I  was  a  boor,  did  I  not  tell  him  : 
"  A  boor,  sir,  is  he  who  permits  himself  any  rudeness,"  or 
why  did  I  not  yell  at  him :  "  Shut  up  ! "  That  would 
have  been   excellent.     Why  did  I  not  call  him  out  to 


314  YOUTH 

a  duel  ?  No,  I  did  not  do  any  of  these  things,  but 
swallowed  the  insult  like  any  mean  coward.  "  You  are  a 
boor,  sir  !  "  dinned  provokiugly  in  my  ears.  "  No,  it  can- 
not be  left  so,"  I  thought,  with  the  firm  determination  of 
going  again  to  that  gentleman  and  telling  him  something 
terrible,  and  even  knocking  him  down  with  the  candle- 
stick, if  the  opportunity  offered  itself.  I  considered  this 
latter  intention  with  great  pleasure,  and  entered  the  large 
room,  not,  however,  without  a  gi-eat  deal  of  fear.  Fortu- 
nately, Mr.  Kolpikov  was  gone  ;  there  was  no  one  there 
but  a  waiter  who  was  cleaning  up  the  table.  I  wanted 
to  communicate  to  the  waiter  what  had  happened,  and  to 
explain  to  him  that  I  was  not  to  blame  for  it,  but  I  recon- 
sidered the  matter,  and  returned  to  our  room  in  the 
gloomiest  frame  of  mind. 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  our  diplomat  ? "  said  Dub- 
kdv.     "  He  is,  no  doubt,  deciding  the  fate  of  Europe  !  " 

"  Oh,  leave  me  alone  !  "  I  said,  turning  away  morosely. 
After  that  I  paced  the  room  and  reflected  about  Dubkov, 
who,  I  concluded,  was  not  at  all  a  good  man.  "  What 
sense  is  there  in  those  eternal  jokes,  and  in  calling  me 
'  diplomat  ? '  There  is  no  fun  in  it.  All  he  cares  for  is 
to  win  from  Volodya  at  cards,  and  to  call  on  some  '  aunty.' 
And  there  is  nothing  agreeable  about  him.  Everything 
he  says  is  a  he,  or  a  mean  remark,  and  he  is  always  ready 
to  ridicule  a  person.  I  think  he  is  simply  a  stupid  fellow, 
and  a  bad  man."  I  passed  some  five  minutes  in  these  re- 
flections, my  hostile  feeling  for  Dubkov  increasing  all  the 
time.  Dubkov,  however,  paid  no  attention  to  me,  which 
provoked  me  still  more.  I  was  even  angry  with  Volodya 
and  Dmitri,  because  they  were  conversing  with  him. 

.  "  Do  you  know  what,  gentlemen  ?  We  ought  to  pour 
water  over  the  diplomat,"  suddenly  said  Dubkov,  glancing 
at  me  with  a  smile  which  to  me  appeared  derisive  and 
even  treacherous,  "  for  he  is  no  good  ;  upon  my  word,  he  is 
no  good ! " 


THE    QUARREL  315 

"  Water  ought  to  be  poured  over  you !  You  are  no 
good  yourself,"  I  answered,  smiling  maliciously  and  for- 
getting that  we  were  speaking  "  thou  "  to  each  other. 

This  answer  evidently  surprised  Dubkov,  but  he  turned 
away  with  indifference,  and  continued  his  conversation 
with  Volodya  and  Dmitri. 

I  tried  to  take  part  in  their  discussion,  but  felt  that  I 
could  not  feign,  and  again  betook  myself  to  my  corner, 
where  I  remained  till  our  departure. 

When  we  had  paid  our  bills  and  w^ere  putting  on  our 
overcoats,  Dubkov  turned  to  Dmitri :  "  Well,  where  will 
Orestes  and  Pylades  go  ?  I  suppose  home,  to  talk  about 
love.  Very  well,  but  we  will  call  on  dear  '  aunty,'  —  that 
is  better  than  your  sour  friendship." 

"  How  dare  you  speak  so,  and  make  fun  of  us  ? "  I  sud- 
denly called  out,  walking  up  close  to  him,  and  waving 
my  arms.  "  How  dare  you  make  fun  of  feelings  which 
you  do  not  understand  ?  I  shall  not  permit  you  to  do 
that.  Shut  up ! "  I  called  out,  and  grew  myself  silent, 
not  knowing  what  to  say  further,  and  breathless  with 
emotion.  Dubkov  was  surprised  at  first,  then  wanted  to 
smile  and  take  it  as  a  joke,  but  finally,  to  my  great  amaze- 
ment, he  was  frightened  and  lowered  his  eyes. 

"  I  am  not  making  fun  of  you  or  your  feelings.  I  was 
just  talking,"  he  said,  evasively. 

"  That's  it ! "  I  cried,  but  at  the  same  time  I  felt 
ashamed  of  myself  and  sorry  for  Dubkov,  whose  red, 
disconcerted  countenance  expressed  genuine  suffering. 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  you  ? "  spoke  Volodya  and 
Dmitri  at  once.     "  Nobody  intended  to  insult  you." 

"  No,  he  wanted  to  offend  me." 

"  I  declare,  your  brother  is  a  terrible  gentleman,"  said 
Dubkov,  just  as  he  was  walking  out  of  the  door,  so  that 
he  could  not  hear  what  I  would  say. 

It  may  be,  I  should  have  run  after  him,  to  tell  him  a 
lot  of  rude  things,  but  just  then  the  waiter  who  had  been 


316  YOUTH 

present  during  my  affair  with  Kolpikdv,  handed  me  my 
overcoat,  and  I  at  once  quieted  down,  simulating,  before 
Dmitri,  only  just  enough  anger  not  to  make  my  sudden 
cahn  appear  too  strange.  Next  day  I  met  Dubkov  in 
Volodya's  room.  We  did  not  mention  the  affair,  but 
spoke  "  you  "  to  each  other,  and  it  became  even  harder  for 
us  to  look  into  each  other's  eyes. 

The  memory  of  my  quarrel  with  Kolpikov,  who  gave 
me  de  ses  nouvelles  neither  on  the  following  day,  nor  later, 
was  for  many  years  terribly  vivid  and  oppressive  to  me. 
I  shuddered  and  shrieked  for  five  years  to  come  every 
time  I  thought  of  the  unavenged  insult,  but  consoled 
myself  whenever  I  recalled  with  self-satisfaction  how" 
bravely  I  had  conducted  myself  in  my  affair  with  Dub- 
k(5v.  It  was  not  until  much  later  that  I  began  to  look  in 
an  entirely  different  way  upon  this  matter,  and  with 
comical  pleasure  to  recall  my  quarrel  with  Kolpikdv,  and 
to  regret  the  undeserved  insult  which  I  had  offered  the 
good  fellow  Dubkov. 

When,  that  very  evening,  I  told  Dmitri  of  the  episode 
with  Kolpikdv,  whose  appearance  I  described  to  him  in 
detail,  he  was  greatly  surprised. 

"  Yes,  it  is  the  same  man !  "  he  said.  "  Think  of  it ! 
this  Kolpikdv  is  a  well-known  scoundrel  and  gambler, 
but,  above  all,  a  coward,  who  was  kicked  out  of  the  army 
by  his  friends,  for  having  received  a  box  on  his  ears  and 
refusing  to  fight  for  it.  Where  did  he  get  that  boldness 
from  ? "  he  added,  looking  at  me  with  a  kindly  smile. 
"  He  did  not  call  you  anything  else  but  '  boor  '  ? " 

"  No,"  I  answered,  blushing. 

"  It  is  not  good,  but  it  is  no  great  misfortune  ! "  Dmitri 
consoled  me. 

Not  until  much  later  in  my  life,  when  I  was  able  to 
reflect  upon  this  matter  calmly,  did  I  make  the  very 
plausible  suggestion  that  Kolpikdv  had  at  last  felt,  after 
many  years,  that  it  was  safe  to  attack  me,  and  so  he 


I 


THE    QUARREL  317 

avenged  upon  me,  in  the  presence  of  his  friend  without 
the  moustaches,  the  box  on  his  ears  which  he  had  once 
received,  just  as  I  had  avenged  his  "  boor "  on  innocent 
Dubkdv. 


XVII. 

I    AM    GETTING    READY    TO    MAKE   CALLS 

When  I  awoke  the  next  morning,  my  first  thought  was 
of  the  incident  with  Kolpikov.  I  growled  again  and  ran 
up  and  down  my  room,  but  there  was  nothing  to  be  done ; 
besides,  it  was  the  last  day  I  was  to  pass  in  Moscow,  and, 
according  to  papa's  order,  I  had  to  make  the  calls  which 
he  had  written  out  for  me  on  a  piece  of  paper.  Papa's 
care  of  us  consisted  not  so  much  in  morality  and  educa- 
tion as  in  the  worldly  relations.  On  the  paper  was 
written,  in  his  broken,  raj)id  handwriting:  "l,on  Prince 
Ivan  Ivanovich,  by  all  means ;  2,  on  the  Ivins,  by  all 
means ;  3,  on  Prince  Mikhaylo ;  4,  on  Princess  Nekhlyii- 
dov  and  Princess  Valakhin,  if  you  have  time."  And,  of 
course,  on  the  curator,  the  rector,  and  the  professors. 

Dmitri  dissuaded  me  from  making  the  last  visits,  saying 
that  it  was  not  only  unnecessary,  but  even  improper ;  but 
on  the  rest  I  had  to  call  by  all  means  on  that  day.  The 
first  tvv^o  visits,  after  which  was  written  "  by  all  means," 
frightened  me  more  especially.  Prince  Ivan  Ivanovich 
was  general-in-chief,  old,  rich,  and  unmarried ;  conse- 
quently I,  a  sixteen-year-old  student,  should  have  to 
meet  him  personally,  which,  I  surmised,  could  not  be 
flattering  for  me.  The  Ivins  also  were  rich,  and  their 
father  was  some  kind  of  an  important  general  in  the  civil 
service,  who  had  called  upon  us,  during  grandmother's 
lifetime,  but  once.  After  grandmother's  death,  I  noticed 
that  the  youngest  Ivin  kept  aloof  from  us,  and  put  on 

318 


I  AM  GETTING  KEADY  TO  MAKE  CALLS   319 

airs.  The  eldest  Ivin,  so  I  heard,  had  finished  his  course 
of  jurisprudence,  and  was  serving  somewhere  in  St. 
Petersburg ;  the  second,  Sergy^y,  whom  I  had  worshipped 
once,  was  also  in  St.  Petersburg,  a  big,  fat  cadet  in  the 
Corps  of  the  Pages. 

In  my  youth  I  not  only  did  not  like  any  relations  with 
people  who  considered  themselves  higher  than  I,  but  such 
relations  were  unbearably  painful  to  me,  on  account  of 
my  continuous  fear  of  insult,  and  of  my  exertion  of  all 
my  mental  powers,  in  order  to  prove  to  them  my  inde- 
pendence. But,  since  I  was  not  going  to  fulfil  papa's 
order  in  regard  to  the  last  point,  I  had  to  extenuate  my 
guilt  by  calling  on  the  others.  I  walked  to  and  fro  in 
my  room,  examining  my  clothes,  which  were  laid  out  on 
chairs,  and  my  sword  and  hat,  and  was  getting  ready  to 
go,  when  old  Grap  arrived  with  Iliuka  to  congratulate 
me.  Father  Grap  was  a  Russified  German,  unbearably 
repulsive,  fawning,  and  very  often  intoxicated.  He  used 
to  call  only  when  he  wanted  to  ask  for  something,  and 
papa  sometimes  took  him  to  his  cabinet,  but  he  never 
was  invited  to  dinner  with  us.  His  humihty  and  beggary 
were  so  welded  with  a  certain  external  kindliness  and 
attachment  for  our  house,  that  all  accounted  his  apparent 
loyalty  to  us  as  a  great  credit  to  him,  but  I  could  not 
make  myself  like  the  man,  and  whenever  he  spoke  I  felt 
ashamed  for  him. 

I  was  very  much  dissatisfied  with  the  arrival  of  these 
guests,  and  did  not  attempt  to  conceal  my  dissatisfaction. 
I  had  grown,  like  the  rest,  to  look  at  Iliuka  from  on  high, 
and  he  had  accustomed  himself  to  consider  us  right  in 
doing  so,  which  made  it  rather  unpleasant  for  me,  when  I 
saw  him  just  such  a  student  as  myself.  It  seemed  to 
me  that  he,  too,  had  some  scruples  in  my  presence  on 
account  of  this  equality.  I  greeted  him  coldly  and  did 
not  ask  either  him  or  his  father  to  be  seated,  feeling  rather 
awkward   about  inviting  them  to  do  what  they   might 


B20  YOUTH 

do  without  my  invitation,  and  ordered  up  the  carriage. 
Iliuka  was  a  good,  scrupulously  honest,  and  very  clever 
young  man,  but  he  was  what  is  called  a  cranky  fellow ; 
he  used  to  be  continually  overcome,  and  apparently  with- 
out any  cause,  by  some  extreme  moods :  he  either  grew 
lackadaisical,  or  sarcastic,  or  peevish,  for  the  merest  trifle  ; 
even  now,  he  was  in  the  last  frame  of  mind.  He  said  noth- 
ing, maliciously  looked  at  me  and  at  his  father,  and  only, 
when  addressed,  smiled  his  submissive,  forced  smile, 
under  which  he  was  in  the  habit  of  concealing  all  his 
feelings,  but  especially  the  feeling  of  shame  for  his  father, 
which  he  could  not  help  experiencing  before  us. 

"  Yes,  sir,  Nikolay  Petrovich,"  said  the  old  man  to  me, 
following  me  all  over  the  room  while- 1  was  dressing,  and 
reverentially  lingering  a  silver  snuff-box  which  grandmother 
had  presented  to  him.  "  The  moment  I  found  out  from 
my  son  that  you  had  passed  your  examinations  so  excel- 
lently, —  everybody  knows  what  a  mind  you  have,  —  I 
at  once  hastened  to  congratulate  you,  my  friend.  I  used 
to  carry  you  on  my  shoulders,  you  know,  and  God  knows 
that  I  love  you  all  like  my  own  family,  and  Ilinka  asked 
me  to  take  him  to  you.     He,  too,  is  used  to  you." 

Ilinka  sat  all  that  time  silent  at  the  window,  ostensibly 
examining  my  cocked  hat,  and  just  audibly  muttering 
something  to  himself. 

"  Well,  I  wanted  to  ask  you,  Nikolay  Petrovich,"  con- 
tinued the  old  man,  "  whether  my  Ilinka  passed  good 
examinations.  He  told  me  he  would  be  with  you,  so  do 
not  abandon  him.     Look  after  him,  and  advise  him." 

"Yes,  he  passed  excellently,"  I  answered,  looking  at 
Iliuka,  who  felt  my  glance  resting  upon  him,  and  blushed, 
and  ceased  to  move  his  hps. 

"  And  may  one  pass  the  day  with  you  ? "  said  the  old 
man,  with  a  timid  smile,  as  though  he  was  afraid  of  me, 
and  keeping  so  close  to  me,  wherever  T  moved,  that  the 
odour  of  hquor  and  tobacco,  with  which  he  was  saturated, 


I   AM    GETTING    READY    TO    MAKE    CALLS        321 

did  not  leave  me  for  a  second,  I  was  angry,  because  he 
placed  me  in  such  a  false  position  in  regard  to  his  son, 
and  because  he  distracted  my  attention  from  an  exceed- 
ingly important  occupation,  that  of  dressing;  but,  in 
particular,  that  odour  of  brandy  so  pursued  me  tliat  I 
was  all  put  out,  and  I  told  him  coldly  that  I  could  not 
be  with  Ilinka,  as  I  should  not  be  at  home  all  day. 

"  Father,  you  wanted  to  go  to  sister,"  said  Ilinka,  smil- 
ing, and  not  looking  at  me,  "and  I  have  some  business, 
too." 

I  felt  even  more  annoyed  and  ashamed,  and,  to  soften 
my  refusal,  hastened  to  add  that  I  should  not  be  at  home, 
because  I  had  to  be  at  the  house  of  Prince  Ivan  Ivanovich, 
of  Princess  Koruakov,  of  Ivin,  the  one  who  occupied  such 
a  distinguished  place,  and  that  I  should,  no  doubt,  dine 
with  Princess  Xekhlyiidov.  I  thought  that  they  would 
not  have  any  cause  for  annoyance,  if  they  knew  on  what 
distinguished  people  I  was  going  to  call.  When  they 
got  ready  to  go,  I  invited  Ilinka  to  come  to  see  me  some 
other  time ;  but  Ilinka  only  muttered  something  and 
smiled  with  a  forced  expression.  I  could  see  that  he 
would  never  again  set  foot  in  my  room. 

I  soon  after  drove  out  to  make  my  calls.  Volddya, 
whom  I  had  asked  early  in  the  morning  to  go  with  me, 
in  order  that  I  might  not  feel  so  awkward,  had  refused, 
under  the  pretext  that  it  would  be  too  sentimental  an 
affair  for  two  brothers  to  travel  together  in  one  small 
vehicle. 


XVIII. 

THE    VALAKHINS 

And  so  I  drove  out  myself.  The  first  visit,  in  order  of 
location,  was  at  the  house  of  the  Valakhius,  on  Sivtsov 
Vrazhok.  I  had  not  seen  Sonichka  for  three  years,  and 
my  love  for  her  had,  naturally,  passed  away  long  ago,  but 
in  my  soul  was  left  a  vivid  and  touching  memory  of  my 
childish  love.  During  those  three  years  I  had  sometimes 
thought  of  her  so  clearly  and  with  such  strength  of  feel- 
ing, that  I  had  shed  tears  and  felt  myself  again  in  love, 
but  such  a  mood  lasted  only  a  few  minutes,  and  did  not 
soon  return. 

I  knew  that  Sonichka  had  been  abroad  with  her 
mother,  where  they  remained  two  years  or  more,  and 
where,  so  I  was  told,  they  had  had  an  accident  in  a  stage- 
coach, during  which  Sonichka's  face  was  aU  cut  up  by  the 
broken  glass  of  the  coach,  whereby  she  had  lost  her  good 
looks.  On  my  way  to  their  house  I  vividly  recalled 
Sonichka  of  old,  and  wondered  how  I  should  find  her 
now.  On  account  of  her  two  years'  sojourn  abroad,  I 
somehow  imagined  her  to  have  grown  exceedingly  tall, 
with  a  beautiful  figure,  serious  and  majestic,  but  unusually 
attractive.  My  imagination  refused  to  represent  her  with 
a  face  disfigured  by  scars ;  on  the  contrary,  having  heard 
somewhere  of  a  passionate  lover  who  had  remained  true 
to  the  object  of  his  love,  in  spite  of  her  disfiguring  pock- 
marks,  I  endeavoured  to  think  that  I  was  in  love  with 
Sonichka,  in  order  to  have  the  merit  of  remaining  true  to 

322 


THE    VALAKHINS  323 

her,  in  spite  of  her  scars.  In  truth,  I  was  not  in  love 
when  I  approached  the  house  of  the  Valakhius,  Ijut,  all 
my  former  memories  of  love  having  been  agitated,  I  was 
well  prepared  to  fall  in  love,  and  I  desired  it,  especially, 
since  I  felt  ashamed  of  being  the  only  one  among  all 
my  friends,  who  was  not  in  love. 

The  Valakhins  hved  in  a  small,  neat  frame  house,  with 
an  entrance  from  the  courtyard.  Upon  ringing  the  bell, 
which  was  at  that  time  a  great  rarity  in  Moscow,  the 
door  was  opened  by  a  tiny,  neatly  dressed  boy.  He  either 
did  not  know,  or  did  not  wish  to  tell  me,  whether  the 
family  was  at  home,  and,  leaving  me  in  the  dark  ante- 
chamber, ran  away  into  a  still  darker  corridor. 

I  was  left  quite  awhile  alone  in  that  dark  room,  from 
which,  in  addition  to  the  entrance  and  the  corridor,  there 
was  another  closed  door,  and  I  partly  marvelled  at  the 
gloomy  character  of  the  house,  and  partly  supposed  that 
it  was  the  proper  tiling  with  people  who  had  been  abroad. 
About  five  minutes  later,  the  door  into  the  parlour  was 
opened  from  within  by  the  same  boy,  and  he  led  me  to  a 
tidy,  but  not  richly  furnished,  sitting-room,  into  which 
Sonichka  entered  right  after  me. 

She  was  seventeen  years  old.  She  was  very  small  of 
stature  and  very  thin,  and  the  colour  of  her  face  was 
sallow  and  unhealthy.  No  scars  were  to  be  noticed  on 
her  face,  but  the  exquisite  bulging  eyes,  and  the  bright, 
kindly,  happy  smile  were  the  same  that  I  had  known  and 
loved  in  my  childhood.  I  had  not  expected  her  to  be 
like  this,  and  so  was  not  able  at  once  to  pour  out  upon 
her  all  the  feeling  which  I  had  prepared  on  my  way  up. 
She  gave  me  her  hand,  frankly  shook  mine  in  the  English 
fashion,  which  was  then  quite  as  rare  a  thing  as  the  bell, 
and  made  me  sit  down  near  her  upon  the  sofa. 

"  Oh,  how  glad  I  am  to  see  you,  dear  Nicolas,"  she 
said,  looking  straight  into  my  face  with  such  a  sincere 
expression  on  her  countenance  that  I  heard  in  the  words 


324  YOUTH 

"  dear  Nicolas  "  a  friendly,  and  not  a  condescending  tone. 
To  my  astonislinient,  she  was,  after  her  journey  abroad, 
even  simpler,  lovelier,  and  more  familiar  in  her  address 
than  before.  I  noticed  two  small  scars  near  the  nose 
and  upon  an  eyebrow,  but  her  wonderful  eyes  and  smile 
talhed  with  my  recollections,  and  sparkled  as  of  old. 

"  How  you  have  changed  ! "  she  said.  "  You  are  a 
big  man  now  !     And  I,  how  do  you  find  me  ? " 

"  Ah,  I  should  not  have  recognized  you,"  I  answered, 
though  I  was  all  the  time  thinking  that  I  should  have 
known  her.  I  again  felt  myself  in  that  careless,  happy 
frame  of  mind  in  which,  five  years  before,  I  had  danced 
the  "  grandfather  "  with  her  at  grandmother's  ball. 

"  Well,  have  I  grown  much  homelier  ? "  she  asked  me, 
shaking  her  little  head. 

"No,  not  at  all!  You  have  gi-own  a  Httle  taller,  are 
older,"  I  hastened  to  answer,  "but,  on  the  contrary  —  I 
even  —  " 

« Oh,  well,  it  makes  no  difference.  And  do  you 
remember  our  dances  and  games,  and  St.  Jerome,  and 
Madame  Dorat  ? "  (I  did  not  remember  any  Madame  Dorat ; 
she  was  evidently  carried  away  by  the  pleasure  of  childish 
reminiscences,  and  mixed  them  up.)  "  Oh,  it  was  such  a 
glorious  time!"  she  continued,  and  the  same  smile,  no, 
a  smile  even  better  than  the  one  I  had  retained  in  my 
memory,  and  the  same  eyes  sparkled  before  me.  While 
she  was  speaking  I  had  time  to  consider  the  situation  in 
which  I  found  myself,  and  I  concluded  that  just  then 
I  was  in  love.  The  moment  I  had  decided  this,  my 
happy  and  careless  mood  left  me,  a  mist  covered  all  that 
was  before  me,  —  even  her  eyes  and  smile ;  I  was 
ashamed  of  somethmg,  I  blushed,  and  lost  my  ability  to 
speak. 

"  These  are  different  times  now,"  she  continued,  sighing 
and  lightly  raising  her  brows.  "Everything  is  worse 
now,  and  we  are  worse,  is  it  not  so,  Nicolas  ? " 


THE    VALAKHINS  325 

I  could  not  answer,  and  looked  at  her  in  silence. 

"  Where  are  now  all  those  Ivins  and  Kornakovs  of 
those  days  ?  Do  you  remember  them  ? "  she  continued, 
with  some  curiosity  gazing  at  my  blushing  and  frightened 
face.     "  It  was  a  glorious  time  !  " 

And  still  I  could  not  answer. 

I  was  for  a  time  brought  out  of  my  state  of  oppression 
by  the  arrival  of  Madame  Valakhin.  I  rose  and  bowed, 
and  regained  my  abihty  to  speak ;  on  the  other  hand,  a 
strange  change  took  place  in  Sonichka  with  the  appear- 
ance of  her  motlier.  All  her  merriment  and  familiarity 
suddenly  disappeared,  even  her  smile  was  different,  and, 
except  for  her  stature,  she  became  the  young  lady  from 
abroad,  that  I  had  imagined  I  should  find.  It  seemed 
that  the  change  had  no  cause,  because  her  mother  smiled 
just  as  pleasantly,  and  in  all  her  movements  expressed 
the  same  meekness  as  of  old.  Madame  Valakhin  seated 
herself  in  an  armchair,  and  pointed  out  to  me  a  place 
near  her.  She  said  something  to  her  daughter  in  English, 
and  Sonichka  went  out,  which  gave  me  still  further 
relief. 

Madame  Valakhin  asked  me  about  my  family,  about  my 
brother  and  father,  then  told  me  of  her  bereavement,  — 
the  loss  of  her  husband,  —  and  finally,  feeling  that  there 
was  nothing  left  to  talk  about,  looked  at  me  in  silence,  as 
much  as  to  say :  "  If  you  will  get  up,  and  bow,  and  leave, 
you  will  be  doing  very  well,  my  dear ! "  but  a  strange  thing 
happened.  S(5nichka  had  returned  to  the  room  with  some 
handiwork,  and  had  seated  herself  in  the  other  corner,  so 
that  I  felt  her  glances  upon  me.  While  Madame  Vala- 
khin was  telling  me  about  the  loss  of  her  husband,  I  once 
more  recalled  that  I  was  in  love,  and  I  thought  that  the 
mother  must  have  guessed  it,  and  was  again  overcome  by 
a  fit  of  bashfulness,  which  was  so  strong  that  I  felt  myself 
unable  to  move  a  hmb  in  a  natural  manner.  I  knew 
that  in  order  to  rise  and  leave,  I  should  have  to  think  of 


326  YOUTH 

how  to  place  my  leg,  what  to  do  with  my  head,  and  what 
with  my  hand,  —  in  short,  I  felt  almost  the  same  sensa- 
tion as  the  evening  before,  when  I  had  drunk  half  a  bottle 
of  champagne.  I  felt  that  I  should  not  be  able  to  manage 
it  all,  and  consequently  should  not  be  able  to  rise,  and  I 
really  could  not  rise.  Madame  Valakhin  must  have  won- 
dered when  she  saw  my  face  as  red  as  a  lobster,  and  my 
complete  immo])ility,  but  I  decided  that  it  was  safer  to 
stay  in  that  stupid  pose  than  to  risk  getting  up  and  going 
in  an  awkward  manner. 

And  thus  I  sat  for  quite  awhile,  hoping  that  some 
unforeseen  accident  would  help  me  out  of  this  predica- 
ment. This  accident  presented  itself  in  the  shape  of  an 
insignificant  young  man,  who  entered  the  room  with  the 
manner  of  a  familiar  acquaintance,  and  politely  bowed  to 
me.  Madame  Valakhin  rose,  excusing  herself  on  the 
ground  that  she  had  to  speak  to  her  business  manager, 
and  looked  at  me  with  a  perplexed  expression,  which 
said,  "  If  you  wish  to  stay  here  all  the  time,  I  shall  not 
drive  you  away."  Exerting  a  terrible  effort  over  myself, 
I  rose,  but  was  not  able  to  bow,  and,  starting  to  leave, 
accompanied  by  looks  of  sympathy  from  mother  and 
daughter,  caught  my  foot  in  a  chair  which  was  not  at 
all  in  my  way.  I  did  so  because  all  my  attention  was 
directed  to  not  catching  my  foot  in  the  carpet  over  which 
I  was  walking.  In  the  open  air,  where  I  tossed  about 
and  moaned  so  loud  that  Kuzma  several  times  asked  me 
what  I  wished,  this  feeling  disappeared,  and  I  began 
calmly  to  reflect  over  my  love  for  Sonichka,  and  over  her 
relations  to  her  mother,  which  seemed  strange  to  me. 
When  I  later  told  father  that  Madame  Valakhin  and  her 
daughter  were  not  on  good  terms,  he  said : 

"  Yes,  she  torments  the  poor  girl  with  her  dreadful 
stinginess,  and  that  is  strange,"  he  added,  with  a  feeling 
which  was  stronger  than  what  he  could  have  for  a  mere 
relative,  "  for  she  used  to  be  such  a  dear,  charming  woman. 


THE    VALAKHINS  327 

I  cannot  understand  what  made  her  change  so.  Did  you 
not  see  in  her  house  some  kind  of  a  secretary  ?  What 
business  has  a  Russian  lady  to  keep  a  secretary  ? "  he 
said,  angrily  walking  away  from  me. 

"  Yes,  I  did,"  I  answered. 

"  Is  he,  at  least,  good-looking  ? " 

"  No,  not  at  all." 

"  Incomprehensible,"  said  papa,  angrily  jerking  his 
shoulder,  and  coughing. 

"  So  I  am  in  love,"  I  thought,  riding  in  my  vehicle. 


XIX. 

THE    KORNAKOVS 

The  second  visit  iu  my  round  of  calls  was  at  the  house 
of  the  Kornakovs.  They  were  living  in  the  second  floor 
of  a  large  house  in  the  Arbat.  The  staircase  was  exceed- 
ingly fine  and  neat,  but  not  magnificent.  A  canvas  stair- 
carpet  was  held  in  place  by  shining  brass  rods,  but  there 
were  no  flowers,  and  no  mirrors.  The  parlour,  through 
which  I  passed  over  a  brilliantly  polished  floor  into  the 
sitting-room,  was  furnished  just  as  severely,  coldly,  and 
neatly  ;  everything  shone  and  was  solid,  if  not  entirely 
new ;  but  neither  pictures,  nor  curtains,  nor  any  other 
ornaments  were  to  be  seen.  There  were  several  princesses 
in  the  sitting-room.  They  all  sat  so  correctly  and  so 
stolidly  that  it  was  quite  apparent  they  sat  differently 
when  there  were  no  guests. 

"  Mamma  will  be  here  soon,"  said  the  oldest  of  them, 
seating  herself  near  me.  This  princess  entertained  me 
for  fifteen  minutes,  speaking  so  freely  and  cleverly  that  the 
conversation  did  not  lag  for  a  second ;  but  it  was  too 
obvious  she  was  entertaining,  and  so  I  did  not  like  her. 
She  told  me,  among  other  things,  that  her  brother  Stepan, 
whom  they  called  Etienne,  and  who  had  entered  the 
School  of  Cadets  two  years  ago,  had  been  promoted  to 
the  rank  of  officer.  When  she  spoke  of  her  brother, 
especially  of  his  having  entered  a  regiment  of  hussars 
against  his  mother's  will,  she  looked  frightened,  and  all 

328 


THE    KORNAKOVS  329 

the  younger  princesses,  who  sat  in  silence,  also  looked 
frightened ;  when  she  spoke  of  grandmother's  death,  she 
looked  sad,  and  all  the  younger  princesses  looked  hkewise ; 
when  she  recalled  how  I  struck  St.  Jerome,  and  was  led 
out  of  the  room,  she  laughed  and  showed  her  bad  teeth, 
and  all  the  princesses  laughed  and  showed  their  bad 
teeth. 

Their  mother  entered,  —  the  same  little,  wizened  woman 
with  the  same  wandering  eyes  and  the  same  habit  of 
looking  at  others  while  speaking  to  you.  She  took  my 
hand,  and  raised  her  own  to  my  lips  for  me  to  kiss,  which 
I  should  not  have  done  otherwise,  as  I  did  not  consider 
it  necessary. 

"  How  glad  I  am  to  see  you  ! "  she  spoke  with  her  usual 
volubility,  glancing  at  her  daughters.  "  Oh,  how  he 
resembles  his  mamma !     Don't  you  think  so,  Lise  ? " 

Lise  said  that  it  was  so,  although  I  am  quite  sure  that 
there  was  not  the  faintest  resemblance  to  my  mother. 

"  So  there  you  are,  a  big  man  !  You  know,  my  Etienne, 
he  is  your  cousin  twice  removed  —  no,  not  twice  removed, 
—  how  is  it,  Lise  ?  My  mother  was  Varvara  Dmitrievna, 
the  daughter  of  Dmitri  Nikolaevich,  and  your  grandmother 
was  Natalya  Nikolaevua." 

"  That  makes  it  three  times  removed,"  said  the  eldest 
princess. 

"  Oh,  you  are  getting  everything  mixed,"  her  mother 
cried  to  her,  angiily  ;  "  not  at  all  thrice  removed,  but  issus 
de  germains,  —  that's  what  you  are  with  Etienne.  He  is  an 
officer  now,  do  you  know  ?  Only  it  is  not  good  for  him 
to  have  his  freedom  so  soon.  You  young  people  ought 
to  be  kept  in  strong  hands,  like  this  !  You  are  not  angry 
with  your  old  aunt  for  telling  you  the  truth  ?  I  kept 
Etienne  with  severity,  and  I  find  that  it  is  the  right 
way." 

"  Yes,  that  is  how  we  are  related,"  she  continued. 
•'  Prince    Ivan    Ivanovich    is    my    uncle,   and    was    your 


330  YOUTH 

mother's  uncle.  Consequently  your  mamma  and  I  were 
first  cousins  —  no,  twice  removed,  yes,  that's  it.  Well,  tell 
me  :  have  you,  my  friend,  called  on  Prince  Ivan  ? " 

I  said  I  had  not,  but  that  I  should  that  very  day. 

"  Oh,  how  can  you  ?  "  she  cried.  "  You  ought  to  have 
made  your  first  visit  to  him.  You  know  that  Prince  Ivan 
is  just  like  a  father  to  you.  He  has  no  children,  conse- 
quently you  and  my  children  are  his  only  heirs.  You 
must  honour  him  according  to  his  years  and  position  in 
the  world,  and  everything.  I  know,  you  young  people 
in  these  years  no  longer  count  your  family  ties,  and  do 
not  hke  old  men ;  but  you  hear  what  your  old  aunt  is 
telling  you,  because  she  loves  you,  and  she  loved  your 
mamma,  and  also  loved  and  respected  your  grandmother 
very  much.  Do  go  there  by  all  means,  by  all  means  go 
there ! " 

I  told  her  I  would  by  all  means,  and  as  the  visit  had, 
in  my  opinion,  lasted  long  enough,  I  rose  and  wanted  to 
leave,  but  she  held  me  back. 

"  No,  wait  a  minute.  Where  is  your  father,  Lise  ?  Call 
him  in.  He  will  be  so  happy  to  see  you,"  she  continued, 
turning  to  me.  About  two  minutes  later  Prince  Mikhaylo 
entered.  He  was  a  thickset  gentleman,  very  untidily 
dressed,  badly  shaven,  and  with  such  an  indifferent  expres- 
sion on  his  face  that  it  looked  stupid.  He  was  not  at  all 
glad  to  see  me,  at  least  he  did  not  say  so ;  but  the  prin- 
cess, whom  he  evidently  feared  very  much,  said  to  him : 

"  Am  I  not  right  ?  Voldemar  "  (she  had  obviously  for- 
gotten my  name)  "  resembles  his  mamma ! "  and  she  winked 
in  such  a  way  that  the  prince,  guessing  what  she  was 
after,  walked  up  to  me,  and,  with  an  impassive  and  even 
dissatisfied  expression  on  his  face,  offered  me  his  unshaven 
cheek  for  a  kiss. 

"  You  are  not  yet  dressed,  and  you  have  to  drive  out," 
said  the  princess  immediately  after,  in  a  tone  which,  no 
doubt,  was  her  usual  one  in  relation  to  the  people  of  the 


THE    KORNAKOVS  331 

house.  "  You  want  to  provoke  them  again,  to  make  them 
angry." 

"  Directly,  directly,  my  dear,"  said  Prince  Mikhaylo, 
going  out.     I  bowed  and  left. 

I  heard  for  the  first  time  that  we  were  heirs  of  Prince 
Ivan  Ivanovich,  and  that  gave  me  an  unpleasant  sensa- 
tion. 


XX. 


THE    IVINS 


The  impending  obligatory  visit  weighed  even  more 
heavily  on  my  mind.  But  before  calling  on  the  prince, 
my  way  lay  past  the  Ivins.  They  were  living  in  Tver 
Street,  in  an  immense,  beautiful  house.  I  walked,  not 
without  fear,  up  the  parade  entrance,  where  a  porter  stood 
with  a  staff. 

I  asked  him  whether  they  were  at  home. 

"  Whom  do  you  wish  ?  The  general's  son  is  at  home," 
said  the  porter  to  me. 

"  And  the  general  himself  ? "  I  asked,  courageously. 

"  I  shall  have  to  announce  you.  What  shall  I  say  ? " 
said  the  porter  and  rang  the  bell.  A  lackey's  feet  in  half- 
boots  appeared  on  the  staircase.  I  was  so  intimidated, 
without  knowing  why,  that  I  told  the  lackey  not  to 
announce  me  to  the  general,  that  I  should  go  first  to  see 
the  general's  son.  As  I  walked  up  this  large  staircase,  it 
seemed  to  me  that  I  had  become  dreadfully  small,  not  in 
the  transferred,  but  in  the  real,  sense  of  the  word.  I  had 
experienced  the  same  feeling  as  my  vehicle  drove  up  to 
the  great  entrance :  it  appeared  to  me  that  the  vehicle,  the 
horse,  and  the  coachman  had  all  become  small.  The  gen- 
eral's son  was  lying  on  a  divan,  with  an  open  book  before 
him,  and  asleep,  when  I  entered  the  room.  His  tutor. 
Frost,  who  was  still  staying  in  their  house,  walked  in 
behind  me  with  his  smart  gait,  and  woke  up  his  charge. 
Ivjn  did  not  express  any  especial  pleasure  at  seeing  me, 

332 


THE    fviNS  333 

and  I  noticed  that  he  looked  at  my  eyebrows  while  speak- 
ing to  me.  Although  he  was  very  civil,  it  seemed  to  me 
that  he  was  entertaining  me,  like  the  princess,  that  he  did 
not  feel  himself  particularly  attracted  to  me,  and  that  he 
had  no  need  of  my  acquaintance,  since  he  certainly  had  a 
different,  his  own,  circle  of  friends.  All  this  I  concluded 
from  the  fact  that  he  gazed  at  my  eyebrows.  In  short, 
his  relations  with  me  were,  however  much  it  hurt  me  to 
acknowledge  it,  very  nearly  the  same  as  mine  with  Ilinka. 
I  was  becoming  irritated,  caught  every  glance  of  Ivin's  on 
the  wing,  and  when  his  eyes  met  those  of  Frost,  I  trans- 
lated it  by  the  question :  "  Why  did  he  call  on  us  any- 
way ? " 

Having  conversed  with  me  awhile,  Ivin  said  that  his 
parents  were  at  home,  and  asked  me  whether  I  should  not 
hke  to  go  down  with  him  to  see  them. 

"  I  shall  be  dressed  at  once,"  he  added,  as  he  left  the 
room,  though  he  was  well  dressed  as  it  was,  —  in  a  new 
coat  and  white  vest.  A  few  minutes  later  he  came  out  in 
his  uniform,  all  buttoned  up,  and  we  walked  down  together. 
The  gala  rooms  through  which  we  passed  were  exceed- 
ingly large,  high,  and,  I  think,  luxuriously  appointed, 
for  there  was  somethiug  of  marble,  of  gold,  of  mushn- 
wrapped  objects,  of  mirrors.  Madame  Ivin  entered 
through  another  door  into  a  small  room  behind  the  sitting- 
room,  at  the  same  time  with  us.  She  received  me  in  a 
friendly  and  familiar  manner,  seated  me  near  her,  and 
sympathetically  asked  me  about  our  whole  family. 

Madame  Ivin,  whom  I  had  seen  in  passiug  two  or  three 
times  before,  and  whom  I  now  watched  attentively,  pleased 
me  very  much.  She  was  tall,  thin,  very  white,  and  seemed 
to  be  continually  sad  and  emaciated.  Her  smile  was  sad, 
but  exceedingly  kind,  her  eyes  large,  tired,  and  slightly 
squinting,  which  gave  her  a  still  sadder  and  more  attract- 
ive aspect.  She  sat,  not  bending  over,  but  somehow 
flagging  all  her  body,  and  all  her  movements  were  droop- 


334  YOUTH 

ing.  She  spoke  indolently,  but  the  sound  of  her  voice  and 
her  enunciation,  with  the  indistinct  utterance  of  r  and  1, 
were  agreeable.  She  did  not  entertain  me.  My  answers 
relative  to  my  family  obviously  afforded  her  a  melancholy 
interest,  as  though,  hearing  me,  she  sadly  recalled  better 
times.  Her  son  had  gone  out  somewhere ;  she  silently 
looked  at  me  for  about  two  minutes,  and  suddenly  burst 
into  tears.  I  was  sitting  in  front  of  her  and  could  not 
think  what  to  say  or  do.  She  continued  to  weep,  without 
looking  at  me.  At  first  I  was  sorry  for  her,  then  I  thought : 
"  Had  I  not  better  console  her,  and  how  is  it  to  be  done  ?  " 
and  finally  I  was  angry,  because  she  had  placed  me  in  such 
an  uncomfortable  situation.  "  Is  it  possible  I  have  so 
piteous  an  appearance  ? "  I  thouglit,  "  or  is  she  doing  it  on 
purpose,  to  find  out  what  I  will  do  under  the  circum- 
stances ? " 

"  It  would  be  improper  for  me  to  leave  now,  as  though 
I  were  running  away  from  her  tears,"  I  continued  to 
think.  I  moved  in  my  chair,  at  least  to  remind  her  of 
my  presence. 

"  Oh,  how  fooHsh  I  am ! "  she  said,  looking  at  me,  and 
trying  to  smile.  "  There  are  days  when  I  weep  without 
any  cause." 

She  was  looking  for  the  handkerchief  near  her  on  the 
sofa,  and  suddenly  burst  into  more  intense  weeping. 

"  O  Lord,  how  ridiculous  it  is  that  I  should  cry  all  the 
time.  I  loved  your  mother  so,  we  were  so  friendly  — 
were  —  and  —  " 

She  found  her  handkerchief,  covered  her  face  with  it 
and  continued  to  weep.  I  was  again  in  an  awkward 
predicament,  and  it  lasted  quite  awhile.  I  was  both 
annoyed,  and  very  sorry  for  her.  Her  tears  seemed  to  be 
sincere,  and  I  thought  that  she  was  not  weeping  so  much 
for  my  mother,  as  because  she  was  not  happy  now,  but 
had  been  much  happier  in  those  days.  I  do  not  know 
how  it  would  all  have  ended  if  young  Ivin  had  not  come 


THE    IVINS  335 

in  and  said  that  father  Ivin  wanted  to  see  her.  She  rose, 
and  was  about  to  leave,  when  Ivin  himself  entered.  He 
was  a  short,  strongly  built,  gray-haired  old  gentleman, 
with  thick  black  eyebrows,  entirely  gray,  closely  cropped 
hair,  and  a  very  austere  and  firm  expression  of  the  mouth. 

I  rose  and  bowed  to  him,  but  Ivin,  who  had  three 
decorations  on  his  green  dress  coat,  not  only  did  not 
answer  my  salutation,  but  hardly  looked  at  me,  so  that 
I  suddenly  felt  that  I  was  not  a  man,  but  some  worth- 
less thing,  —  a  chair  or  window  or,  if  a  man,  then  such  as 
does  not  in  any  way  differ  from  a  chair  or  window. 

"  My  dear,  you  have  not  written  yet  to  the  countess," 
he  said  to  his  wife  in  French,  with  a  passionless,  though 
firm  expression. 

"  Good-bye,  M.  Irteneff,"  Madame  Ivin  said  to  me, 
suddenly  nodding  her  head  haughtily  and,  like  her  son, 
looking  at  my  eyebrows.  I  bowed  once  more  to  her 
and  to  her  husband,  and  again  my  salutation  had  an 
effect  as  if  a  window  had  been  opened  or  closed.  Student 
Ivin,  however,  took  me  to  the  door  and  told  me  on  the 
way  that  he  should  attend  the  St.  Petersburg  University 
after  that,  because  his  father  had  received  a  place  there, 
mentioning  some  very  important  office. 

"  Well,  whatever  papa  may  say,"  I  muttered  to  my- 
self, seating  myself  in  the  vehicle,  "  my  foot  shall  never 
cross  their  threshold  again.  That  blubberer  cries,  look- 
ing at  me  as  though  I  were  some  ill-omened  person,  and 
Ivin  is  a  swine  that  does  not  greet  one.  I'll  give  it  to 
him  ! "  I  did  not  have  the  least  idea  how  I  was  goin"; 
to  give  it  to  him,  though  the  remark  seemed  appropriate 
enough. 

I  had  later  to  listen  often  to  father's  persuasive  advice 
that  I  ought  to  cultivate  that  acquaintance,  saying  that  I 
could  not  expect  a  man  in  his  position  to  occupy  himself 
with  such  a  boy  as  I  was ;  but  I  stood  my  ground  for  a 
long  time. 


XXI. 

PRINCE   IVAN   IVANOVICH 

"  Now,  the  last  visit  in  Nikitskaya  Street,"  I  said  to 
Kuzma,  and  we  drove  to  the  house  of  Prince  Ivan  Ivan- 
ovich. 

After  passing  through  several  ordeals  of  visiting,  I 
generally  gained  self-confidence,  and  so  even  now  drove 
up  to  the  prince's  with  a  sufficiently  calm  spirit,  when 
I  suddenly  recalled  the  words  of  Madame  Kornakov  that 
I  was  an  heir;  in  addition,  I  noticed  two  carriages  at  the 
entrance,  and  my  former  shyness  came  over  me. 

It  seemed  to  me  that  the  old  porter,  who  opened  the 
door  for  me,  and  the  lackey,  who  took  off  my  overcoat, 
and  the  three  ladies  and  two  gentlemen,  whom  I  found 
in  the  sitting-room,  and  especially  Prince  Ivan  Ivauovich 
himself,  who  sat  on  a  sofa  in  citizen's  clothes,  —  it 
seemed  to  me  that  all  these  were  looking  at  me  as 
an  heir,  and  consequently  with  malevolence.  The  prince 
was  very  gracious  to  me,  kissed  me,  that  is,  he  applied  for 
a  second  his  soft,  dry,  and  cold  lips  to  my  cheek,  in- 
quired about  my  occupations  and  plans,  joked  with  me, 
asked  me  whether  I  still  was  writing  verses  such  as  I  had 
written  for  grandmother's  name-day,  and  invited  me  to  , 
dine  with  him  that  very  day.  But  the  more  he  was 
gracious,  the  more  it  appeared  to  me  that  he  wanted  to 
treat  me  kindly  only  to  avoid  showing  how  displeased 
he   was   with  the  idea  that  I   was  liis  heir.      He  had 

3.36 


PRINCE    IVAN    lYANOVICH  337 

a  habit,  caused  by  the  false  teeth  of  wliich  Lis  mouth  was 
full,  of  raising  his  upper  lip  every  time  he  said  some- 
thing, and  drawing  it  into  his  nostrils,  and  as  he  was 
doing  so  now,  I  imagined  he  said  to  himself :  "  Boy,  boy, 
I  know  without  you  that  you  are  an  heir,"  and  so  forth. 

When  we  were  small  we  used  to  call  Prince  Ivan 
Ivanovich  grandfather;  but  now,  in  my  capacity  of  heir, 
my  tongue  refused  to  roll  out  "  grandfather,"  and  to  say 
"  Your  Highness,"  as  one  of  the  gentlemen  present  said, 
seemed  humiliating  to  me,  so  that  I  tried  during  my 
whole  conversation  not  to  address  him  directly.  But 
more  than  anything  I  was  put  out  by  the  old  princess, 
who  was  also  an  heir  of  the  prince,  and  who  was  living 
in  his  house.  During  the  whole  dinner,  when  I  sat  by 
the  side  of  the  princess,  I  surmised  that  she  did  not 
speak  to  me  because  she  hated  me  for  being  just  such  an 
heir  as  she,  and  that  the  prince  paid  no  attention  to  our 
side  of  the  table,  because  we,  the  princess  and  I,  were 
heirs  and,  consequently,  equally  detestable  to  him. 

"  Yes,  you  will  not  believe  me  how  uncomfortable  I 
was,"  I  said  that  very  evening  to  Dinitri,  trying  to  brag 
of  my  feeling  of  disgust  at  the  thought  that  I  was  au 
heir  (I  considered  it  a  fine  feeling),  "  how  uncomfortable 
I  was  the  two  hours  I  passed  with  the  prince.  He  is 
a  fine  fellow,  and  was  very  gracious  to  me,"  I  said,  trying, 
in  reality,  to  impress  my  frieud  with  the  fact  that  I  was 
not  saying  all  that  because  I  felt  myself  humbled  by  the 
prince,  "  but,"  I  continued,  "  the  thought  that  I  might 
be  looked  upon  like  the  princess  who  is  living  at  his 
house  and  fawning  before  him,  is  a  terrible  thought.  He 
is  a  beautiful  old  man,  and  exceedingly  good  and  gentle 
to  everybody,  yet  it  was  painful  to  see  how  he  maltreated 
the  princess.    That  abominable  money  spoils  all  relations  ! " 

"  Do  you  know,  I  think  it  would  be  best  to  speak 
frankly  to  the  prince,"  I  said,  "  and  tell  him  that  I  re- 
spect  him   as   a   man,   but   that  T  do   not   think   of  his 


338  YOUTH 

inheritance,  and  ask  him  not  to  leave  me  anything,  and 
that  only  under  such  conditions  would  I  visit  him." 

Dmitri  did  not  laugh  w^hen  I  told  him  this,  but,  on 
the  contrary,  fell  to  umsing  and,  after  a  few  moments' 
silence,  said  to  me : 

"  Do  you  know,  you  are  wrong.  Either  you  have  no 
business  to  surmise  that  they  are  thinking  of  you  in 
the  same  way  as  of  that  princess  of  yours,  or,  if  you  do 
surmise  it,  you  must  go  farther  and  surmise  that  you 
know  what  they  might  think  of  you,  but  that  these 
thoughts  are  so  far  from  you  that  you  despise  them  and 
will  do  nothing  on  their  basis.  You  must  surmise  that 
they  are  surmising  that  you  are  surmising  it  —  but,  in 
short,"  he  added,  feeling  that  he  was  getting  snarled  up 
in  his  consideration,  "it  will  be  best  not  to  surmise  it 
at  all." 

My  friend  was  quite  right.  Much,  much  later  I  con- 
vinced myself  from  the  experiences  of  my  life  that  it  was 
harmful  to  think,  and  still  more  harmful  to  express  much 
that  looks  very  noble  but  ought  to  be  for  ever  concealed 
from  all  in  the  heart  of  every  man,  and  that  noble  words 
rarely  harmonize  with  noble  deeds.  I  am  convinced  that 
when  a  good  intention  has  been  uttered,  it  is  hard,  and 
more  often  impossible,  to  carry  out  that  good  intention. 
But  how  is  one  to  abstain  from  uttering  the  noble,  self- 
satisfied  impulses  of  youth  ?  Only  much  later  one  thinks 
of  them  and  regrets  them  as  a  flower  which  one  impa- 
tiently plucked  before  it  was  unfolded  and  then  saw 
withered  and  crushed  upon  the  ground. 

Though  I  had  just  told  Dmitri,  my  friend,  that  money 
spoiled  all  relations,  I  discovered  the  next  morning,  before 
our  departure  into  the  country,,  that  T  had  squandered  all 
my  money  on  all  kinds  of  pictures  and  Turkish  pipes,  and 
so  borrowed  of  him  for  the  journey  twenty  roubles,  which 
he  had  offered  me,  and  which  I  did  not  pay  back  to  him 
for  a  long  time. 


XXII. 

A   CONFIDENTIAL   TALK   WITH   MY   FRIEND 

This  talk  of  ours  took  place  in  the  phaeton  on  the  road 
to  Kuntsovo.  Dmitri  dissuaded  me  from  calling  upon  his 
mother  in  the  morning,  but  came  for  me  after  dinner,  in 
order  to  take  me  for  the  whole  evening,  even  overnight, 
to  the-  summer  residence,  where  his  family  was  staying. 
Only  after  we  left  the  city  behind  us,  and  the  muddy  and 
motley  streets  and  unbearable  deafening  noise  of  the  pave- 
ment gave  way  to  the  broad  view  of  the  fields  and  the  soft 
rumbling  of  the  wheels  on  the  dusty  road,  and  the  fragrant 
vernal  air  and  broad  expanse  surrounded  me  on  all  sides,  — 
only  then  I  recovered  from  the  manifold  new  impressions 
and  from  the  consciousness  of  freedom  which  had  com- 
pletely entangled  me  in  the  last  two  days.  Dmitri  was 
communicative  and  meek,  did  not  rearrange  his  necktie 
with  his  head,  nor  wink  and  blink  nervously.  I  was  sat- 
isfied with  those  noble  sentiments  which  I  had  expressed 
to  him,  and  supposed  that  for  these  he  condoned  my 
shameful  affair  with  Kolpikov,  and  no  longer  despised  me 
for  it.  We  chatted  in  a  friendly  manner  about  many  con- 
fidential affairs  which  one  does  not  communicate  under  all 
circumstances.  Dmitri  told  me  about  his  family,  whom  I 
did  not  know  yet,  about  his  mother,  aunt,  and  sister,  and 
about  the  one  whom  Volodya  and  Dubkdv  regarded  as  his 
passion  and  called  "  red-haired."  He  spoke  of  his  motlier 
with  a  certain  cold  and  solemn  praise,  as  if  to  anticipate 
any  retort  upon  that  subject ;  liis  aunt  he  mentioned  with 

339 


340  YOUTH 

enthusiasm,  but  not  without  some  degree  of  condescen- 
sion ;  of  his  sister  he  spoke  very  little  and  as  if  ashamed 
to  say  anything  about  her ;  but  of  the  "  red-haired  "  girl, 
whose  real  name  was  Lyubov  Sergy^evna,  and  who  was 
an  old  maid  that,  standing  in  some  family  relation  to  the 
Nekhlyudovs,  was  living  at  their  house,  he  spoke  with 
animation. 

"  Yes,  she  is  a  remarkable  girl,"  he  said,  blushing  shame- 
facedly, but  looking  more  boldly  into  my  eyes.  "  She  is 
not  a  young  girl,  I  might  even  say  she  is  old,  and  not  at 
all  good-looking,  but  what  stupidity  and  nonsense  to  love 
beauty !  I  can't  understand  it,  it  is  so  stupid,"  he  said,  as 
though  he  had  just  discovered  this  latest  and  extraordinary 
truth,  "  but  such  a  soul,  such  a  heart  and  principles  —  I 
am  sure,  you  will  not  find  a  girl  like  her  in  our  day-." 

I  do  not  know  where  Dmitri  had  got  his  habit  of  say- 
ing that  everything  good  was  rare  in  our  day.  He  was 
fond  of  repeating  this  expression,  and  it  somehow  fitted 
him  well. 

"  Only  I  am  afraid,"  he  continued,  calmly,  after  he  had 
in  his  mind  completely  demolished  all  people  who  were  so 
stupid  as  to  love  beauty,  "  I  am  afraid  that  you  will  not 
understand  or  appreciate  her  soon :  she  is  modest,  and 
even  retiring,  and  does  not  like  to  show  her  beautiful  and 
remarkable  qualities.  Now,  inotlier,  who,  you  will  see,  is 
a  beautiful  and  clever  woman,  has  known  Lyubov  for  some 
years,  but  is  not  able  and  does  not  want  to  understand  her. 
Even  yesterday  —  I  will  tell  you  why  I  was  out  of  sorts 
when  you  asked  me  about  it.  Two  days  ago  Lyubov  Ser- 
gy^evna  wanted  me  to  take  her  to  Ivan  Yakovlevich,  — 
you  have,  no  doubt,  heard  of  Ivan  Yakovlevich,  who  is 
supposed  to  be  insane,  but  in  reality  is  a  remarkable  man. 
Lyub6v  Sergy(^evna  is  extremely  religious,  I  must  tell  you, 
and  understands  Ivan  Yakovlevich  thoroughly.  She  fre- 
quently goes  to  see  him,  to  converse  with  him  and  to  give 
him  money  for  the  poor,  which  she  has  earned  herself. 


A    CONFIDENTIAL    TALK    WITH    MY    FRIEND      341 

She  is  a  wonderful  woman,  you  will  see.  Well,  so  I  drove 
with  her  to  Ivan  Yakovlevich,  and  I  am  very  grateful  to 
her  for  having  seen  this  remarkable  man.  Mother  refuses 
to  understand  this,  and  sees  nothing  but  superstition  in  it. 
Yesterday  this  was  the  cause  of  my  first  quarrel  with  my 
mother,  and  it  was  pretty  serious,"  he  concluded,  convul- 
sively jerking  his  neck,  as  though  in  recollection  of  the 
feeling  which  he  had  experienced  during  that  quarrel. 

"  Well,  how  do  you  think  about  it  ?  That  is,  when  you 
consider  what  will  come  of  it —  or  have  you  talked  with 
her  of  what  will  be,  and  how  your  love  and  friendship  will 
end  ? "  I  asked,  wishing  to  abstract  him  from  his  unpleas- 
ant memory. 

"  You  ask  whether  I  am  thinking  of  marrying  her  ? "  he 
asked  me,  blushing  again,  but  turning  boldly  around  and 
looking  into  my  face. 

"  Well,  really,"  I  thought,  calming  myself,  "  that's  all 
right,  we  are  grown-up  men,  —  two  friends  travelling  in  a 
phaeton  and  discussing  our  future  lives.  Any  outsider 
would  be  pleased  to  hear  and  see  us." 

"  Why  not  ? "  he  continued,  after  my  affirmative  an- 
swer. "  My  aim,  like  that  of  every  sensible  man,  is  to 
be  as  happy  and  as  good  as  possible ;  and  if  she  will  only 
consent  when  I  am  entirely  independent,  I  shall  be  hap- 
pier and  better  with  her  than  with  the  greatest  beauty  in 
the  world." 

While  conversing,  we  did  not  notice  that  we  had 
approached  Kuntsovo,  and  that  the  sky  was  clouded,  and 
it  was  getting  ready  to  rain.  The  sun  stood  low  on  our 
right,  over  the  old  trees  of  the  Kuntsovo  garden,  and  half 
of  the  brilHant  red  disk  was  shrouded  by  a  gray,  weakly 
transparent  cloud ;  from  the  other  half  burst  forth  in 
sprays  the  parcelled  fiery  beams  and  with  striking  clear- 
ness illuminated  the  old  trees  of  the  garden,  that  stood 
immovable  and  cast  their  thick  green  tops  against  the 
brightly  luminous  spot  of  the  azure  sky.     The  splendour 


342  YOUTH 

and  light  of  this  pait  of  the  heaveus  was  in  sharp  contrast 
to  a  heavy  lilac  cloud  which  hung  in  front  of  us  over  a 
young  birch  grove  that  was  visible  on  the  horizon. 

A  little  more  to  the  right  could  be  seen,  beyond  bushes 
and  trees,  the  variegated  roofs  of  the  cottages,  some  of 
which  reflected  the  bright  sunbeams,  while  others  assumed 
the  gloomy  aspect  of  the  other  side  of  the  heavens.  At 
the  left,  and  below  us,  lay  the  blue  expanse  of  a  motion- 
less pond,  surrounded  by  pale-green  willows  that  were 
darkly  reflected  on  its  dull,  seemingly  convex  surface. 
Beyond  the  pond,  a  blackish  fallow  field  stretched  along 
the  incline  of  a  hill,  and  the  straight  line  of  a  bright  green 
balk,  which  cut  through  it,  went  away  into  the  distance 
and  was  lost  in  the  leaden,  threatening  horizon.  On  both 
sides  of  the  soft  road,  over  which  the  phaeton  swayed  in 
even  measure,  stood  out  the  green,  succulent,  tufty  rye, 
which  here  and  there  was  beginning  to  form  its  stalks. 
The  air  was  perfectly  calm,  and  redolent  with  freshness ; 
the  verdure  of  the  trees  and  leaves  and  rye  was  motion- 
less and  pure  and  bright.  It  seemed  as  though  every 
blade  were  living  its  separate,  full  and  happy  life.  Near 
the  road  1  noticed  a  black  footpath,  which  meandered 
between  the  dark -green  rye  that  had  risen  to  one-fourth 
of  its  full  stature,  and  this  footpath  for  some  reason  vividly 
reminded  me  of  the  country,  and,  through  the  reminiscence 
of  the  country,  by  some  strange  association  of  ideas, 
brought  before  me  with  intense  vividness  Sonichka  and 
the  fact  that  I  was  in  love  with  her. 

In  spite  of  all  my  friendship  for  Dmitri  and  the  pleas- 
ure which  his  frankness  caused  me,  I  did  not  want  to 
knoy/  anything  more  about  his  feehngs  and  intentions  in 
regard  to  Lyubov  Sergy^^evna,  but  was  very  anxious  to 
tell  him  about  all  my  love  for  Sonichka,  which  seemed  to 
me  to  be  a  love  of  a  much  higher  sort.  But  I  could  not 
make  up  my  mind  to  tell  him  straight  out  how  good  I 
thought  it  would    be   when,  having    married    Sonichka, 


A    CONFIDENTIAL    TALK    WITH    MY    FRIEND       343 

I  should  be  living  in  the  country,  how  I  should  have 
little  children  who  would  crawl  on  the  ground  and  would 
call  me  papa,  and  how  happy  I  should  be  when  he 
would  come  with  his  wife,  Lyubov  Sergy^evna,  to  see  me, 
in  their  travelling  clothes.  Instead  of  all  that  I  said, 
pointing  to  the  sun,  "  Dmitri,  see  how  magnificent !  " 

Dmitri  did  not  say  anything  to  me,  being  obviously 
dissatisfied  because  to  his  confession,  which  had,  no  doubt, 
cost  him  an  effort,  I  had  answered  by  directing  his  atten- 
tion to  Nature,  to  which  he  was  generally  indifferent. 
Nature  affected  him  quite  differently  from  me :  it  affected 
him  not  so  much  by  its  beauty  as  by  its  intrinsic  interest. 
He  loved  it  more  with  his  mind  than  with  his  feelings. 

"  I  am  very  happy,"  I  said  to  him  soon  after,  without 
paying  any  attention  to  his  preoccupation  with  his  own 
thoughts  and  to  his  complete  indifference  to  what  I  might 
be  telling  him.  "  I  have  told  you,  you  will  remember,  of 
a  young  lady  with  whom  I  was  in  love  when  I  was  a 
child :  I  saw  her  to-day,"  I  continued,  enthusiastically, 
"  and  now  I  am  in  love  with  her  in  earnest  —  " 

And  I  told  him,  in  spite  of  the  continued  expression  of 
indifference  upon  his  face,  about  my  love  and  about  all 
my  plans  for  future  conjugal  happiness.  And  a  strange 
thing  happened :  the  moment  I  told  him  in  detail  of  the 
whole  power  of  my  feeling,  I  began  to  feel  that  this  feel- 
ing was  diminishing. 

A  light  rain  overtook  us  after  we  had  entered  the  birch 
avenue  which  led  to  the  summer  residence,  but  we  did 
not  get  wet.  I  knew  that  it  was  raining  because  a  few 
drops  fell  upon  my  nose  and  hand,  and  because  something 
was  pattering  on  the  young  viscid  leaves  of  the  birches 
which  suspended  their  motionless  curly  branches  and 
received  these  pure  transparent  drops  with  evident  enjoy- 
ment that  expressed  itself  in  the  strong  odour  with  which 
they  filled  the  avenue.  We  jumped  out  of  the  vehicle,  in 
order  to  run  through  the  garden  to  the  house.     At  the 


344  YOUTH 

very  entrance  to  the  house  we  ran  against  four  ladies  who 
were  coming  from  the  other  direction  with  rapid  steps, 
two  of  them  carrying  some  handiwork,  one  of  them  with 
a  hook,  and  another  with  a  lapdog.  Dmitri  introduced 
me  on  the  spot  to  his  mother,  his  sister,  his  aunt,  and 
Lyubov  Sergyeevna.  They  stopped  for  a  second,  but  the 
rain  began  to  fall  in  earnest. 

"  Let  us  go  to  the  gallery  ;  there  you  will  introduce  him 
once  more,"  said  the  one  whom  I  had  taken  for  Dmitri's 
mother,  and  we  ascended  the  staircase  together  with  the 
ladies. 


XXIII. 

THE  NEKHLYUDOVS 

In  the  first  moment  I  was  impressed  more  particularly 
by  Lyubov  Sergy^evna,  who,  with  her  lapdog  in  her 
hands,  walked  up  the  staircase  behind  the  rest,  in  thick, 
hand-knit  shoes,  and  who,  stopping  two  or  three  times, 
carefully  examined  me,  and  every  time  after  that  kissed 
her  dog.  She  was  very  ill-looking ;  red-haired,  thin,  short, 
and  somewhat  misshapen.  What  made  her  homely  face 
still  more  homely  was  her  odd  hair-dressing,  with  a  part- 
ing on  one  side  (the  kind  of  hair-dressing  bald-headed 
women  use).  However  much  I  tried  to  please  my  friend, 
I  could  not  find  one  single  beautiful  feature  in  her.  Her 
brown  eyes,  though  they  expressed  kindliness,  were  too 
small  and  dim,  and  decidedly  homely ;  even  her  hands, 
that  characteristic  feature,  though  not  large  and  not  badly 
shaped,  were  red  and  rough. 

When  I  walked  up  to  the  terrace  after  them,  all  the 
ladies  but  Varenka,  Dmitri's  sister,  who  only  looked  atten- 
tively at  me  with  her  large  dark  gray  eyes,  said  a  few 
words  to  me,  before  taking  up  their  work,  while  Varenka 
began  to  read  aloud  her  book,  which  she  held  on  her 
knees,  marking  the  place  with  her  finger. 

Princess  Marya  Ivanovna  was  a  tall,  stately  woman  of 
about  forty  years.  One  might  have  given  her  more,  if 
one  were  to  judge  by  the  locks  of  half-gray  hair  that 
frankly  stood  out  from  under  her  cap.  But  by  her  fresh, 
exceedingly    tender    face,    with    hardly    a    wrinkle,    and 

345 


346  YOUTH 

especially  by  the  lively,  merry  sparkle  of  her  eyes,  she 
seemed  to  be  much  younger.  Her  eyes  were  brown  and 
wide  open,  her  lips  were  rather  thin  and  somewhat  severe, 
her  nose  fairly  regular  and  slightly  to  the  left,  her  hands 
were  without  rings,  large,  almost  masculine,  with  beautiful 
elongated  fingers.  She  wore  a  dark  blue  high-cut  dress  that 
fitted  tightly  over  her  stately,  youthful  waist,  which  was 
evidently  her  pride.  She  sat  remarkably  upright,  and 
was  sewing  a  dress.  When  I  entered  the  gallery,  she 
took  my  hand,  drew  me  to  her,  as  if  desiring  to  examine 
me  at  close  range,  and  said  to  me,  as  she  looked  at  me 
with  the  same  cold,  open  glance  which  Dmitri  had,  that 
she  had  known  me  for  a  long  time  from  her  son's  descrip- 
tion. She  invited  me  to  stay  a  whole  day  with  her,  in 
order  that  she  might  get  better  acquainted  with  me. 

"  Do  anything  you  may  think  of,  without  any  regard 
to  us,  just  as  we  shall  not  be  inconvenienced  by  you, — 
walk  around,  read,  listen,  or  sleep,  if  that  gives  you  most 
pleasure,"  she  added. 

Sofya  Ivanovna  was  an  old  maid  and  a  younger  sister 
of  the  princess,  but  she  looked  older.  She  had  that 
superabundant  corpulence  which  one  finds  only  in  short, 
fat  old  maids  who  wear  corsets.  She  looked  as  though 
all  her  vitality  had  sprouted  upward  with  so  much  force 
that  it  threatened  to  choke  her  any  minute.  Her  short 
fat  hands  could  not  unite  below  the  down  curve  of  the 
band  of  her  waist,  and  she  was  not  able  even  to  see 
the  tightly  laced  band  itself. 

Though  Princess  Marya  Ivanovna  was  black-haired 
and  dark-eyed,  and  Sofya  Ivanovna  blonde  and  with 
large,  vivacious,  and  at  the  same  time  calm,  blue  eyes 
(a  rare  thing  indeed),  there  was  a  great  family  resemblance 
between  the  sisters :  there  were  the  same  expression,  the 
same  nose,  the  same  lips ;  only  Sofya  Ivanovna's  nose 
and  lips  were  a  little  thicker  and  turned  to  the  right 
when  she  smiled,  while  with  the  princess  they  turned  to 


THE    NEKHLYUDOVS  347 

the  left.  Sdfya  Ivanovna,  to  judge  by  her  garments  and 
hair-dressing,  endeavoured  to  appear  young,  and  would 
not  have  shown  her  gray  locks,  if  she  had  had  any.  Her 
glance  and  her  treatment  of  me  at  first  appeared  very 
haughty  and  flurried  me,  while  with  the  princess,  on  the 
contrary,  I  felt  completely  at  ease.  It  may  be,  her  stout- 
ness and  a  certain  resemblance  to  the  picture  of  Catherine 
the  Great,  by  which  I  was  struck,  gave  her  in  my  eyes 
that  haughty  mien ;  but  I  was  thoroughly  frightened 
when  she  looked  fixedly  at  me  and  said,  "  The  friends  of 
our  friends  are  our  friends."  I  calmed  down  and  suddenly 
changed  my  opinion  of  her  completely  as  soon  as  she  grew 
silent ;  after  saying  these  w^ords,  she  opened  her  mouth  and 
drew  a  deep  sigh.  No  doubt  her  corpulence  had  induced  in 
her  the  habit  of  drawing  a  deep  sigh  after  every  few 
words,  by  opening  her  mouth  a  little  and  slightly  rolling 
her  large  blue  eyes.  In  this  habit  was  somehow  ex- 
pressed such  a  gentle  kindliness  that  after  that  sigh  I 
lost  my  fear  of  her,  and  began  to  like  her.  Her  eyes 
were  charming,  her  voice  melodious  and  pleasant,  and 
even  those  very  circular  lines  of  her  body  at  that  time 
of  my  youth  did  not  seem  devoid  of  beauty. 

Lyubov  Sergy^evna,  as  the  friend  of  my  friend,  would 
soon  say,  I  thought,  something  very  friendly  and  familiar 
to  me,  and  she,  indeed,  looked  at  me  for  quite  awhile  in 
silence,  as  if  undecided  whether  that  which  she  was  going 
to  say  to  me  would  not  be  too  familiar ;  but  she  interrupted 
the  silence  only  to  ask  me  in  what  Faculty  I  w^as.  Then 
she  again  looked  for  a  long  time  sharply  at  me,  obviously 
wavering  as  to  whether  she  had  better  speak  that  intimate 
word  or  not,  and  I,  noticing  that  hesitation  in  her,  begged 
her  by  the  expression  on  my  face  to  tell  it  to  me,  but 
she  only  said,  "  Nowadays,  they  say,  they  do  not  pay 
much  attention  to  the  sciences  in  the  university,"  and 
called  up  her  lap-dog  Suzette. 

Lyubov  Sergyeevna  spoke  all  that  evening  mostly  in 


348  YOUTH 

such  phrases,  which  had  nothing  to  do  with  the  matter 
in  hand,  and  did  not  fit  each  other ;  but  I  had  such  con- 
tldeuce  in  Dmitri,  and  he  kept  on  looking  all  the  evening 
with  such  anxiety,  now  at  me,  and  now  at  her,  with  an 
expression  which  meant,  "  Well,  what  do  you  say  ? "  that, 
as  is  often  the  case,  I  was  very  far  from  formulating  my 
thought  in  regard  to  her,  though  at  heart  I  was  convinced 
that  there  was  nothing  remarkable  in  Lyubov  Sergy^evna. 

Finally,  the  last  person  of  that  family,  Varenka,  was  a 
plump  girl  sixteen  years  of  age.  Nothing  but  her  dark 
gray  eyes,  which  united  merriment  and  quiet  attention, 
and  in  expression  very  much  resembled  the  eyes  of  her 
aunt,  and  a  long  blond  braid,  and  an  extremely  tender 
and  beautiful  hand,  was  attractive  in  her. 

"  M.  Nicolas,  it  must  be  tiresome  to  you  to  begin 
listening  in  the  middle,"  said  Sofya  Ivanovna  with  her 
kindly  sigh,  turning  the  piece  of  the  dress  which  she  was 
sewing. 

The  reading  just  then  stopped,  because  Dmitri  had  left 
the  room. 

"  Or  have  you  read  '  Rob  Eoy  '  before  ? " 

At  that  time  I  considered  it  my  duty,  because  of  my 
student  uniform  if  for  no  other  reason,  to  answer  the 
simplest  question  of  persons  with  whom  I  was  little 
acquainted,  in  a  clever  and  original  manner,  and  regarded 
it  as  shameful  to  give  short,  clear  answers,  such  as,  "  yes," 
"  no,"  and  so  forth.  Looking  at  my  new  fashionable 
pantaloons  and  the  bright  buttons  of  my  coat,  I  answered 
that  I  had  not  read  "  Rob  Roy,"  but  that  I  hked  very 
much  to  hear  it  read,  because  I  preferred  to  read  books 
from  the  middle  rather  than  from  the  beginning. 

"  It  is  twice  as  interesting.  You  can  guess  what  was 
before,  and  what  will  follow  after,"  I  added,  smiling 
contentedly. 

The  princess  lauglied,  as  it  seemed  to  me,  unnaturally, 
but  I  learned  later  that  she  had  no  other  laugh. 


THE    NEKHLYUDOVS  349 

"  It  must  be  the  truth,"  she  said.  "  Well,  shall  you 
stay  here  long,  Nicolas  ?  You  will  not  be  offended  at 
our  not  calling  you  Monsieur.     When  do  you  leave  ? " 

"  I  do  not  know ;  maybe  to-morrow,  and  maybe  we 
shall  stay  quite  awhile  yet,"  I  answered  for  some  reason, 
although  I  was  quite  sure  we  should  leave  the  next  day. 

"  I  wish  you  would  stay,  both  for  your  sake  and  for 
Dmitri's,"  the  princess  remarked,  looking  somewhere  into 
the  distance.  "  At  your  years  friendship  is  a  glorious 
thing." 

I  felt  that  all  were  looking  at  me  and  waiting  to  hear 
what  I  should  say,  though  Varenka  pretended  to  be 
examining  the  work  of  her  aunt ;  I  felt  that  I  was,  so  to 
speak,  being  examined,  and  that  I  had  to  show  myself 
from  my  most  advantageous  side. 

"  Yes,  for  me,"  I  said,  "  Dmitri's  friendship  is  useful, 
but  I  cannot  be  useful  to  him :  he  is  a  thousand  times 
better  than  I." 

Dmitri  was  not  there  to  hear  me,  or  I  shoald  have 
been  afraid  of  his  feeling  the  insincerity  of  my  words. 

The  princess  again  laughed  her  unnatural  laugh,  which 
was  natural  to  her. 

"  Well,  hearing  him,"  she  said,  "  c'est  vous  qui  Hcs  un 
petit  monstre  de  perfection" 

"  Monstre  de  perfection,  —  that  is  excellent,  I  must  re- 
member it,"  I  thought. 

"  However,  not  to  mention  you,  he  himself  is  a  good 
example  of  that,"  she  continued,  lowering  her  voice  (which 
was  particularly  pleasing  to  me)  and  pointing  with  her 
eyes  to  Lyubov  Sergy^evna.  "  He  has  discovered  in  poor 
aunty  "  (thus  they  called  Lyubov  Sergy^evna),  "  whom  I 
have  known  these  twenty  years  with  her  Suzette,  perfec- 
tions which  I  had  never  suspected  —  Varya,  tell  them  to 
bring  me  a  glass  of  water,"  she  added,  again  gazing  into 
the  distance,  probably  considering  that  it  was  yet  too 
early,  or  that  I  ought  not  to  be  initiated  at  all  in  their 


350  YOUTH 

family  relations,  "  or  no,  he  had  better  go.  He  is  doing 
nothing,  but  you  continue  to  read.  Go,  my  dear,  right 
through  the  door  and,  having  walked  fifteen  paces,  stop 
and  say  in  a  loud  voice,  '  Peter,  bring  Marya  Ivanovna  a 
glass  of  ice-water  ! '  "  she  said  to  me,  and  again  laughed  her 
unnatural  laugh. 

"  She,  no  doubt,  wants  to  say  something  about  me," 
1  thought,  leaving  the  room.  "  No  doubt,  she  wants 
to  say  that  she  has  noticed  that  I  am  a  very  clever 
young  man."  I  had  not  yet  walked  the  fifteen  paces 
when  stout  Sofya  Ivanovna,  all  out  of  breath,  but  walk- 
ing with  rapid  and  light  steps,  caught  up  with  me. 

"  Mcrci,  mon  clicr"  she  said,  "  I  am  going  there  myself, 
so  I  shall  order  it." 


XXIV. 

LOVE 

S6fya  Ivanovna,  as  I  found  out  later,  was  one  of 
those  rare  unmarried  women  who  are  born  for  family 
happiness,  but  to  whom  fate  has  denied  that  happiness, 
and  who,  on  account  of  this  denial,  suddenly  decide  to 
pour  out  on  a  few  chosen  people  all  that  treasure  of  love 
which  has  so  long  been  stored  up,  and  has  grown  and 
strengthened  in  their  heart  for  husband  and  children. 
And  that  treasure  is  in  old  maids  of  this  description  so 
inexhaustible  that,  though  there  may  be  many  chosen 
ones,  there  is  still  left  much  love,  which  they  pour  out 
on  all  their  neighbours,  good  and  bad  people,  with  whom 
they  happen  to  come  in  contact  in  their  lives. 

There  are  three  kinds  of  love  ; 

1.  Fair  love, 

2.  Self-sacrificing  love,  and 

3.  Active  love. 

I  am  not  speaking  of  the  love  of  a  young  man  for 
a  young  woman,  and  vice  versa,  —  I  am  afraid  of  these 
tendernesses.  I  have  been  so  unhappy  in  my  life  that 
I  never  have  seen  in  this  kind  of  love  one  spark  of  truth, 
but  only  a  lie  in  which  sentimentality,  conjugal  relations, 
money,  and  the  desire  to  tie  or  untie  one's  hands  so 
entangled  the  sentiment  itself  that  it  was  impossible 
to  make  out  anything.  I  am  speaking  of  the  love  for 
man,  which,  according  to  the  greater  or  smaller  power 
of  the  soul,  is  concentrated  on  one,  on  a  few,  or  is  poured 

351 


352  YOUTH 

out  on  many,  —  of  the  love  for  a  mother,  father,  brother, 
for  children,  for  a  companion,  for  a  countryman,  —  of 
the  love  for  man. 

Fair  love  consists  in  love  for  the  beauty  of  the 
sentiment  and  its  expression.  For  people  who  love 
thus,  the  loved  object  is  dear  only  to  the  extent  to  v^hich 
it  evokes  that  agreeable  sensation,  the  consciousness  and 
expression  of  which  they  enjoy.  People  who  love  with 
a  fair  love,  care  very  little  for  reciprocation,  as  being  a 
circumstance  that  has  no  effect  upon  the  beauty  and 
pleasurableness  of  their  sentiment.  They  often  change 
the  objects  of  their  love,  since  their  main  aim  consists 
only  in  having  the  pleasurable  sensation  of  love  con- 
tinually evoked.  In  order  to  sustain  that  pleasurable 
sensation,  they  speak  in  the  choicest  terms  of  their  love, 
both  to  the  object  of  that  love,  and  to  all  who  do  not 
even  have  any  interest  in  the  matter.  In  our  country 
people  of  a  certain  category,  who  love  fairly,  not  only 
tell  everybody  of  their  love,  but  invariably  tell  it  in 
French.  It  may  seem  strange  and  ridiculous,  but  I 
am  convinced  that  there  have  been  and  still  are  many 
people  of  a  certain  society,  particularly  women,  whose 
love  for  their  friends,  husbands,  and  children  would  be 
annihilated  at  once,  if  they  were  prohibited  from  speak- 
ing of  it  in  French. 

Love  of  the  second  kind  —  self-sacrificing  love  —  con- 
sists in  the  love  for  the  process  of  self-sacrifice  in  behalf 
of  the  beloved  object,  without  any  regard  to  whether  the 
beloved  object  is  to  gain  or  lose  anything  from  these 
sacrifices.  "  There  is  no  unpleasantness  which  I  should 
be  unwilling  to  inflict  upon  myself,  in  order  to  prove  my 
loyalty  to  the  whole  world  and  to  him,  or  to  her"  That 
is  the  formula  of  the  love  of  this  kind.  People  who  love 
in  this  manner  never  believe  in  reciprocation  (for  it  is 
more  meritorious  to  sacrifice  myself  for  him  who  does 
not  understand   me),  are  always   sickly,  wliicli   also  in- 


LOVE  353 

creases  the  deserts  of  sacrifice ;  they  are  generally  con- 
stant, for  it  would  be  hard  for  them  to  lose  the  deserts 
of  the  sacrifices  which  they  have  made  for  their  beloved 
object ;  they  are  always  ready  to  die,  in  order  to  prove 
to  him,  or  her,  all  their  attachment,  but  despise  the  petty, 
commonplace  proofs  of  love,  which  do  not  demand  any 
special  impulse  of  self-sacrifice.  It  is  a  matter  of  indiffer- 
ence to  them  whether  you  have  eaten  or  slept  restfully, 
whether  you  are  happy  or  well,  and  they  wHl  do  nothing 
to  afford  you  these  comforts,  if  these  are  in  their  power ; 
but  they  are  ever  ready,  if  the  opportunity  offers  itself, 
to  face  bullets,  throw  themselves  into  the  water,  or  into 
the  fire,  and  to  go  into  consumption  from  love.  Besides 
this,  people  who  are  inclined  to  a  self-sacrificing  love  are 
always  haughty  in  their  love,  exacting,  jealous,  suspicious, 
and,  oddly  enough,  wish  dangers  to  the  objects  of  their 
love,  in  order  to  save  them  from  misfortune  and  to  con- 
sole them,  and  even  vices,  in  order  to  mend  them. 

You  are  living  alone  in  the  country  with  your  wife, 
who  loves  you  with  self-devotion.  You  are  well  and 
calm,  and  you  have  some  occupation  which  you  enjoy, — 
your  loving  wife  is  so  weak  that  she  cannot  busy  herself 
with  her  house  affairs,  which  are  transferred  into  the 
hands  of  servants,  nor  with  her  children,  who  are  in 
the  hands  of  nurses,  nor  with  any  other  business,  which 
she  likes,  because  she  loves  nothing  but  you.  She  is 
obviously  ill,  but,  not  wishing  to  grieve  you,  she  does  not 
tell  you  so ;  she  obviously  suffers  ennui,  but  she  is  pre- 
pared to  feel  all  her  life  ennui  for  your  sake ;  she  is 
obviously  worrying  her  life  away  because  you  so  assidu- 
ously busy  yourself  with  your  affairs  (whatever  they  may 
be,  the  hunt,  books,  the  estate,  service),  and  she  sees  that 
these  occupations  will  be  your  undoing,  —  still  she  is 
silent,  and  suffers.  But  you  are  ill,  and  your  loving  wife 
forgets  her  own  illness  and  does  not  leave  your  bed,  in 
spite  of  your  entreaties  not  to  worry  needlessly ;  and  you 


364  YOUTH 

feel  every  second  her  sympathetic  glance  upon  you,  which 
seems  to  say,  "  Well,  I  told  you  so,  but  I  shall  not  leave 
you."  In  the  morning  you  are  feeling  a  little  better,  and 
you  go  into  another  room.  The  room  is  not  heated  ;  the 
soup,  which  alone  you  are  allowed  to  eat,  has  not  been 
ordered  from  the  cook ;  the  medicine  has  not  been  sent 
for ;  but  your  loving  wife,  emaciated  from  her  nocturnal 
vigils,  is  looking  with  the  same  expression  of  sympathy 
at  you,  walking  on  tiptoe,  and  in  a  whisper  giving  her 
unusual  and  indistinct  orders  to  the  servants.  You  want 
to  read,  —  your  loving  wife  tells  you,  with  a  sigh,  that 
she  knows  you  will  not  obey  her  and  will  be  angry  with 
her,  but  she  is  used  to  it,  —  that  you  had  better  not 
read;  you  want  to  v/alk  up  and  down  the  room,  —  you 
had  better  not  do  that  either;  you  want  to  talk  to  your 
friend  who  has  come  to  see  you,  —  you  had  better  not. 
In  the  night  you  have  a  fever  again,  you  v/ant  to  forget 
yourself,  but  your  loving  wife,  thin  and  wan,  now  and 
then  sighing,  is  sitting  opposite  you  in  an  armchair,  in 
the  dim  light  of  a  night-lamp,  and  with  her  faintest  motion 
and  her  faintest  voice  provokes  in  you  a  feeling  of  anger 
and  impatience.  You  have  a  servant  with  whom  you 
have  been  living  for  twenty  years,  to  whom  you  have 
become  accustomed,  who  serves  you  with  pleasure  and 
with  efficiency,  because  he  has  had  a  good  sleep  during 
the  day  and  receives  good  wages,  but  she  does  not  let 
him  serve  you.  She  does  everything  herself  with  her 
feeble,  unaccustomed  fingers,  which  you  cannot  help 
following  with  repressed  anger,  when  these  white  fingers 
try  in  vain  to  uncork  a  bottle,  snuff  a  candle,  spill 
medicine,  or  cautiously  touch  you.  If  you  are  an  im- 
patient and  irascible  man,  and  ask  her  to  leave  you,  you 
will,  with  your  unstrung,  ailing  ears,  hear  her  behind 
the  door,  submissively  sighing,  and  weeping,  and  whisper- 
ing some  nonsense  to  your  valet.  Finally,  if  you  have 
not  died,  your  loving  wife,  who  has  not  slept  for  twenty 


LOVE  355 

nights  during  your  illness  (which  she  keeps  repeating 
to  you),  becomes  ill,  and  feeble,  and  sutfering,  and  is  even 
less  tit  for  any  occupation,  and,  while  you  are  in  a  normal 
state,  expresses  her  love  of  self-devotion  only  by  an 
humble  ennui,  which  involuntarily  is  communicated  to 
you  and   all   your   neighbours. 

The  third  kind,  the  active  love,  consists  in  striving  to 
satisfy  all  wants,  all  wishes,  caprices,  and  even  vices  of  a 
beloved  object.  People  who  love  in  this  manner,  love  for 
a  lifetime,  because  the  more  they  love,  the  more  they  find 
out  their  beloved  object,  and  the  easier  it  is  for  them  to 
love,  that  is,  to  satisfy  all  the  wishes  of  the  loved  one. 
Their  love  is  seldom  expressed  in  words,  and  if  it  is 
expressed,  it  is  done,  not  in  a  self-satisfied  and  beautiful, 
but  in  a  timid  and  shamefaced  manner,  because  they  are 
always  afraid  that  they  do  not  love  sufficiently.  These 
people  love  even  the  vices  of  their  beloved  being,  because 
these  vices  make  it  possible  for  them  to  satisfy  new- 
wishes.  They  seek  reciprocation,  gladly  deceiving  them- 
selves, l)elieve  in  it,  and  are  happy  when  they  obtain  it ; 
but  they  continue  to  love  even  in  adverse  circumstances, 
and  not  only  wish  their  beloved  object  happiness,  but 
continually  strive  Ijy  all  means,  moral  and  material,  great 
and  small,  to  afford  it  to  them. 

It  was  this  active  love  for  her  nephew,  her  niece,  her 
sister,  Lyubdv  Sergyeevna,  and  even  me,  because  Dmitri 
loved  me,  which  shone  in  the  eyes,  and  in  every  move- 
ment of  Sofya  Ivanovna. 

It  was  not  uutil  much  later  that  I  fully  appreciated 
Sofya  Ivanovna,  but  even  then  the  question  occurred  to 
me :  Why  has  Dmitri,  who  endeavoured  to  understand 
love  in  an  entirely  different  way  from  other  young  men, 
and  who  always  had  before  his  eyes  dear,  loving  Sofya 
Ivanovna,  suddenly  become  passionately  enamoured  of 
incomprehensible  Lyubov  Sergy(5evna,  and  why  does  he 
merely  admit  good  qualities  in  his  aunt  ?     Evidently  the 


356  TouTn 

proverb,  "  A  man  is  not  a  prophet  in  his  own  country,"  is 
just.  One  of  two  things  is  true :  either  there  is  really 
more  of  bad  than  good  in  every  man,  or  a  man  is  more 
susceptible  of  bad  than  of  good.  Lyubdv  Sergy^evna  he 
had  known  but  for  a  short  time,  and  the  love  of  his  aunt 
he  had  experienced  ever  since  his  birth. 


XXV. 

I   AM   BECOMING   ACQUAINTED 

When  I  returned  to  the  gallery,  they  were  not  speak- 
ing of  me,  as  I  had  surmised  ;  Yareuka  was  not  reading, 
but,  having  put  aside  her  book,  was  warmly  discussing 
something  with  Dmitri,  who  was  walking  to  and  fro, 
rearranging  his  necktie  with  his  neck,  and  blinking.  The 
subject  of  their  discussion  was  ostensibly  Ivan  Yakovlevich 
and  superstition ;  but  the  discussion  was  too  heated  for 
the  implied  meaning  to  be  anything  else  than  one  nearer 
to  the  whole  family.  The  princess  and  Lyubov  Sergy^evna 
sat  silent,  listening  to  every  word,  apparently  desiring  to 
take  part  in  the  discussion,  but  restraining  themselves  and 
letting  Varenka  speak  for  the  one,  and  Dmitri  for  the 
other.  When  I  entered,  Yarenka  looked  at  me  with  an 
expression  of  such  indifference  that  it  was  evident  she 
was  much  in  earnest  about  tlie  discussion,  and  did  not 
care  whether  I  heard  what  she  was  saying,  or  not.  The 
same  expression  was  on  the  face  of  the  princess,  who  was 
apparently  on  Yarenka's  side.  Dmitri  began  to  discuss 
more  heatedly  in  my  presence,  and  Lyubov  Serg)^^evna 
seemed  to  be  frightened  at  my  appearance  and  said,  with- 
out turning  to  any  one  in  particular :  "  Old  people  say 
rightly,  '  si  jeunesse  savait,  si  viedllesse  pouvait.'  " 

But  this  proverb  did  not  stop  the  dispute,  and  only 
made  me  think  that  the  side  of  Lyubov  and  of  my  friend 
was  in  the  wrong.  Although  I  felt  awkward  at  being 
present  at  a  small  family  discussion,  it  was  pleasant  to  see 

357 


358  YOUTH 

the  real  relations  of  this  household,  which  were  brought 
out  by  the  discussion,  and  to  feel  that  my  presence  did 
not  keep  them  from  expressing  their  views. 

How  often  it  happens  that  you  see  a  family  for  years 
under  one  and  the  same  false  shroud  of  decency,  and  that 
the  real  relations  of  its  members  remain  a  mystery  for 
you !  I  have  even  noticed  that  the  more  impenetrable, 
and,  therefore,  more  beautiful,  that  shroud  is,  the  coarser 
are  the  actual,  hidden  relations.  But  let  sometime,  quite 
unexpectedly,  a  seemingly  insignificant  question  about 
some  blonde  or  some  visit,  or  the  husband's  horses,  arise 
in  this  family  circle,  —  and  the  quarrel  becomes  without 
any  apparent  cause  ever  more  embittered,  things  grow  too 
crowded  under  the  shroud  for  settlement,  and  suddenly, 
to  the  terror  of  the  persons  quarrelling  themselves,  and  to 
the  amazement  of  those  present,  all  the  real  coarse  rela- 
tions come  to  the  surface,  the  shroud,  which  no  longer 
conceals  anything,  flaunts  between  the  contending  parties 
and  only  reminds  you  of  how  long  you  have  been  deceived. 
Frequently  it  is  not  so  painful  to  strike  the  head  against 
a  crossbeam  as  to  touch  hghtly  a  sore  place.  There  is 
just  such  a  painful  sore  place  in  nearly  every  family. 
In  the  family  of  the  Nekhlyudovs  it  was  Dmitri's  odd 
love  for  Lyubdv  Sergy^evna,  which  provoked  in  his  sister 
and  mother,  if  not  a  feeling  of  jealousy,  at  least  an 
offended  family  feeling.  For  this  reason  the  discussion 
about  Ivan  Yakovlevich  and  superstition  had  such  a 
serious  meaning  for  all. 

"  You  always  try  to  see  in  that  which  everybody  ridi- 
cules and  everybody  despises,"  spoke  Varenka  in  her 
melodious  voice,  pronouncing  every  letter  distinctly,  "  yes, 
you  always  try  to  find  something  unusually  good  in  it." 

"  In  the  first  place,  only  the  most  frivolous  person  can 
speak  of  despising  such  a  remarkable  man  as  Ivan  Yakov- 
levich," answered  Dmitri,  convulsively  jerking  his  head 
in  a  direction  away  from  his  sister,  "and,  in  the  second 


I  AM  BECOMING  ACQUAINTED       359 

place,  you,  on  the  contrary,  try  on  purpose  not  to  see  the 
good  which  is  standing  before  your  eyes." 

Turning  to  us,  Sofya  Ivanovna  looked  vSeveral  times 
now  at  her  nephew,  now  at  her  niece,  and  now  at  me, 
and  two  or  three  times  she  opened  her  mouth  and  drew  a 
deep  sigh,  as  though  saying  something  mentally. 

"  Varya,  please  hurry  up  and  read,"  she  said,  handing 
her  the  book  and  gently  patting  her  hand,  "  I  am  anxious 
to  learn  whether  he  found  her."  (As  far  as  I  remember 
there  was  nothing  in  the  novel  about  anybody  finding 
anybody.)  "  And  you,  Mitya,  had  better  wrap  up  your 
cheek,  my  dear,  for  it  is  blowing  here,  and  you  will  get  a 
toothache  again,"  she  said  to  her  nephew,  in  spite  of  the 
dissatisfied  glance  which  he  cast  upon  her,  presumably 
for  having  broken  the  logical  thread  of  his  proofs.  The 
reading  was  continued. 

This  small  quarrel  did  not  in  the  least  affect  the 
family  peace  and  the  sensible  harmony  of  that  feminine 
circle. 

That  circle,  to  which  Princess  Marya  Ivanovna  obvi- 
ously gave  direction  and  character,  had  for  me  the  entirely 
new  and  attractive  character  of  a  certain  logicalness  and, 
at  the  same  time,  simplicity  and  refinement.  This  char- 
acter was  expressed  for  me  in  the  beauty,  cleanhness,  and 
solidity  of  things,  —  the  bell,  the  binding  of  the  book,  the 
chair,  the  table,  —  and  in  the  erect,  corseted  attitude  of 
the  princess,  and  in  the  display  of  the  locks  of  gray  hair, 
and  in  the  habit  of  calling  me  at  the  first  meeting  Nico- 
las and  he,  in  their  occupations,  in  the  reading  and  sewing, 
and  in  the  extraordinary  whiteness  of  their  feminine 
hands.  (They  all  had  a  common  family  feature  in  their 
hands,  consisting  in  the  flesh  colour  of  the  outer  side  of 
their  palms,  which,  by  a  sharp,  straight  line,  was  separated 
from  the  extraordinary  whiteness  of  the  back  of  the  hand.) 
But,  above  all  this,  character  was  expressed  in  the  way 
all  three  spoke  excellent  Eussian  and  French,  distinctly 


360  YOUTH 

enunciating  every  letter,  and  with  pedantic  exactness 
finishing  every  word  and  sentence  ;  all  this,  and  especially 
the  fact  that  they  treated  me  in  their  company  simply 
and  seriously,  hke  a  grown  man,  telling  me  their  own 
opinions  and  listening  to  mine,  —  I  was  so  httle  used 
to  it  that,  in  spite  of  my  shining  buttons  and  blue  facings, 
I  was  all  the  time  afraid  that  they  would  tell  me,  "  Do 
you  really  think  we  are  speaking  to  you  in  earnest  ?  Go  to 
your  lessons,"  —  all  this  had  the  effect  of  relieving  me 
entirely  of  timidity.  I  rose  from  my  chair,  changed 
seats,  and  boldly  spoke  to  everybody,  except  Varenka, 
with  whom,  it  seemed  to  me,  it  was  not  proper,  but  some- 
how prohibited,  to  speak  the  first  time. 

During  the  reading,  while  I  listened  to  her  pleasant, 
ringing  voice,  and  looked,  now  at  her,  and  now  upon  the 
sand  path  of  the  flower-garden,  on  which  round,  darkling 
drops  of  rain  were  formed ;  and  upon  the  linden-trees,  on 
the  leaves  of  which  continued  to  patter  rare  drops  of  rain 
from  the  pale,  bluishy  translucent  rim  of  the  cloud  which 
was  just  passing  over  us,  and  then  again  upon  her  ;  and 
upon  the  last  blood-red  rays  of  the  setting  sun,  which 
illuminated  the  thick  old  birches  wet  with  the  rain,  and 
again  upon  Yarenka,  —  I  reflected  that  she  was  not  at  all 
ill-looking,  as  I  had  thought  in  the  beginning. 

"  What  a  pity  I  am  aheady  in  love,"  I  thought,  "  and 
that  Varenka  is  not  Sdnichka  !  How  good  it  would  be 
suddenly  to  become  a  member  of  this  family :  1  should 
liave  at  once  a  mother,  an  aunt,  and  a  wife."  All  the 
time  I  was  thinking  this,  I  kept  looking  at  Varenka  while 
she  was  reading,  and  I  imagined  I  was  magiietizing  her, 
and  that  she  would  have  to  look  at  me.  Varenka  raised 
her  head  from  tlie  book,  looked  at  me  and,  meeting  my 
glance,  turned  away. 

"  I  see  the  rain  has  not  stopped,"  she  said. 

And,  suddenly,  I  experienced  a  strange  feeling :  I  re- 
called  that  precisely   what  was  happening  then  was  a 


I  AM  BECOMING  ACQUAINTED       361 

repetition  of  something  that  had  happened  with  me  be- 
fore ;  that  just  such  a  rain  had  pattered  then,  and  the  sun 
went  down  behind  the  birches,  and  I  looked  at  her,  and 
she  read,  and  I  magnetized  her,  and  she  looked  around, 
and  I  recalled  that  it  had  happened  before. 

"  Is  it  possible  it  is  she  ?  Is  it  really  beginning  ? " 
But  I  quickly  decided  that  it  was  not  she,  and  that  it  was 
not  beginning  yet.  "  In  the  first  place,  she  is  not  good- 
looking,"  I  thought,  "  and  she  is  just  a  young  lady,  with 
whom  I  became  acquainted  in  the  commonest  manner, 
but  she  will  be  uncommon,  and  her  I  shall  meet  in  some 
uncommon  place ;  and  then,  I  like  this  family  so  much 
because  I  have  not  seen  anything  as  yet,"  I  reflected, 
"  and  there  are,  no  doubt,  always  such,  and  I  shall  meet 
many  of  them  in  my  life." 


XXVI. 

I   SHOW    MYSELF   FROM   MY   MOST   ADVANTAGEOUS   SIDE 

At  tea  the  reading  stopped,  and  the  ladies  engaged  in  a 
conversation  about  persons  and  affairs  unknown  to  me. 
This  they  did,  as  I  thought,  in  order  to  make  me  feel,  in 
spite  of  the  gracious  reception,  the  difference  which  ex- 
isted between  them  and  me,  on  account  of  the  disparity 
of  years  and  social  standing.  When  the  conversation  be- 
came general,  so  that  I  could  take  part  in  it,  I  redeemed 
my  previous  silence  by  trying  to  display  my  extraordinary 
mind  and  originality,  which,  as  I  thought,  I  owed  it  to 
my  uniform  to  do.  When  the  conversation  turned  to  sum- 
mer residences,  I  at  once  told  them  that  Prince  Ivan 
Ivauovich  had  a  summer  residence  near  Moscow ;  that 
people  had  come  from  London  and  Paris  to  look  at  it; 
that  it  was  surrounded  by  a  fence  which  had  cost  three 
hundred  and  eighty  thousand ;  and  that  Ivan  Ivanovich 
was  a  very  near  relative  of  mine ;  and  that  I  had  dined 
with  him  to-day,  and  he  had  invited  me  by  all  means  to 
come  and  stay  with  him  the  whole  summer  in  his  country 
house,  but  that  I  had  refused  because  I  knew  that  resi- 
dence well,  having  been  there  several  times ;  and  that  all 
those  fences  and  bridges  did  not  interest  me  in  the  least, 
because  I  could  not  bear  luxury,  particularly  in  the  coun- 
try ;  and  that  I  liked  the  country  to  be  entirely  country- 
like. Having  told  this  terrible,  complicated  he,  I  became 
confused,  and  blushed,  so '  that  every  one  must  have 
noticed  that  I  was  lying.     Varenka,  who  was  just  then 

362 


MY  MOST  ADVANTAGEOUS  SIDE  363 

passing  a  cup  of  tea  to  me,  and  Sofya  Ivanovna,  who  was 
looking  at  me  all  the  time  I  spoke,  turned  their  faces 
aside  and  conversed  about  something  else  with  an  expres- 
sion which  I  later  met  frequently  in  good  people,  when  a 
very  young  man  began  to  tell  obvious  lies,  and  which 
meant :  "  We  know  that  he  is  lying,  and  why  is  the  poor 
fellow  doing  so  ?  " 

I  said  that  Prince  Ivan  Ivanovich  had  a  summer  resi- 
dence, because  I  could  not  find  a  better  excuse  for  men- 
tioning my  relationship  with  Prince  Ivan  Ivanovich,  and 
my  having  dined  with  him  that  day.  But  why  did  I  tell 
about  the  fence  that  cost  three  hundred  and  eighty  thou- 
sand, and  say  that  I  had  frequently  been  there,  when  I 
had  not  been  there  once,  nor  ever  could  have  been,  for 
Prince  Ivan  Ivanovich  lived  only  in  Moscow  and  in 
Naples,  which  was  quite  well  known  to  the  Nekhlyii- 
dovs,  —  why  did  I  tell  all  that  ?  I  am  absolutely  unable 
to  account  for  it.  Neither  in  my  childhood,  nor  in  my 
boyhood,  nor  later  in  my  riper  years,  have  I  ever  noticed 
in  myself  the  vice  of  lying :  on  the  contrary,  I  was  more 
inclined  to  be  unduly  truthful  and  frank  ;  but  in  that  first 
period  of  my  youth  I  was  frequently  attacked  by  the 
strange  desire  to  teU  the  most  desperate  lies,  without 
any  apparent  cause  whatsoever.  I  say  "  desperate  lies," 
because  I  lied  in  matters  in  which  it  was  very  easy  to 
catch  me.  It  seems  to  me  that  the  chief  cause  of  this 
strange  tendency  lay  in  the  vain  desire  to  show  myself  as 
a  different  man  from  what  I  was,  united  with  the  hope, 
unrealizable  in  hfe,  of  lying  without  being  detected. 

As  the  rain  had  passed,  and  the  weather  during  the 
evening  glow  was  calm  and  clear,  the  princess  proposed 
after  tea  that  we  take  a  stroll  through  the  lower  garden 
and  inspect  her  favourite  spot,  following  my  rule  always 
to  be  original,  and  thinking  that  such  clever  people  as  the 
princess  and  I  ought  to  stand  above  banal  civility,  I 
answered  that  I  could  not  bear  strolling  around  without 


364  YOUTH 

any  aim,  and  if  I  did  go  out  for  pleasure  I  preferred  to  go 
all  alone.  I  did  not  stop  to  consider  that  what  I  said  was 
mere  rudeness ;  it  appeared  to  me  at  that  time,  that  as 
there  was  nothing  more  disgraceful  than  trite  compliments, 
so  there  was  nothing  more  agreeable  and  original  than  a 
certain  impolite  frankness.  However  satisfied  I  was  with 
my  answer,  I  nevertheless  went  out  with  all  the  company. 

The  favourite  spot  of  the  princess  was  quite  a  distance 
below,  in  the  very  depth  of  the  garden,  on  a  small  bridge 
which  was  thrown  over  a  narrow  strip  of  swamp.  The 
view  was  very  limited,  but  melancholy  and  graceful.  We 
are  so  accustomed  to  mistake  art  for  nature,  that  fre- 
quently the  phenomena  of  nature  which  we  have  never 
met  in  art  appear  unnatural  to  us,  as  though  nature  were 
factitious,  and,  vice  versa,  those  phenomena  which  have 
been  too  frequently  repeated  in  art  appear  hackneyed, 
while  some  views  which  are  too  much  permeated  by  one 
idea  and  sentiment,  such  as  we  meet  in  reality,  seem  arti- 
ficial. The  view  from  the  favourite  spot  of  the  princess 
was  of  that  kind.  It  was  formed  by  a  small  shrub-fringed 
pond,  just  behind  which  rose  a  steep  hill,  all  overgrown 
with  immense,  old  trees  and  bushes,  which  frequently 
intermingled  their  variegated  verdure,  and  by  an  ancient 
birch  at  the  foot  of  the  hill,  which,  overhanging  the  pond 
and  extending  its  thick  roots  in  its  moist  bank,  leaned 
with  its  top  against  a  tall,  stately  aspen  and  stretched  its 
curly  branches  above  the  smooth  surface  of  the  pond, 
which  reflected  all  those  pendent  branches  and  the  sur- 
rounding verdure. 

"  How  charming  ! "  said  the  princess,  shaking  her  head 
and  speaking  to  nobody  in  particular. 

"  Yes,  charming,  but  it  seems  to  me  it  awfully  resembles 
painted  scenery,"  said  I,  trying  to  prove  that  I  held  my 
own  opinion  in  everything. 

The  princess  continued  to  enjoy  the  view,  as  though  she 
had  not  heard  my  remark,  and  turning  to  her  sister  and 


MY    MOST    ADVANTAGEOUS    SIDE  365 

to  Lyubov  Sergy^evna,  pointed  out  the  part  which  she 
particularly  liked,  —  a  crooked  overhanging  branch  and 
its  reflection.  Sofya  Ivdnovna  said  that  it  was  beautiful, 
and  that  her  sister  passed  several  hours  at  a  time  there ; 
but  it  was  evident  she  said  all  that  to  please  the  princess. 
I  have  noticed  that  persons  who  are  gifted  with  the  ability 
to  love  rarely  are  impressed  by  beauties  of  nature.  Lyu- 
bov Sergy^evna  was  also  enthusiastic ;  she  asked,  among 
other  tilings,  "  What  keeps  up  the  birch-tree  ?  Will  it 
stand  a  long  time  yet  ? "  and  continually  glanced  at  her 
Suzette,  which  wagged  its  shaggy  tail,  and  with  its  crooked 
little  legs  ran  up  and  down  the  bridge,  with  an  anxious 
expression,  as  though  it  were  out  of  doors  for  the  first  time 
in  its  hfe.  Dmitri  entered  into  a  very  logical  discussion 
with  his  mother,  trying  to  prove  that  no  view  could  be 
beautiful  whose  horizon  w^as  limited.  Yarenka  did  not 
say  anything.  When  I  looked  round  at  her  she,  standing 
in  profile,  was  leaning  against  the  balustrade  of  the 
bridge,  and  gazing  into  the  distance.  Something  obvi- 
ously attracted  and  interested  her  very  much,  for  she  was 
apparently  lost  in  contemplation  and  thought  neither  of 
herself,  nor  of  being  observed.  In  the  expression  of  her 
large  eyes  was  so  much  concentrated  attention  and  calm, 
clear  thought,  and  in  her  attitude  so  much  unconstraint 
and,  in  spite  of  her  low  stature,  even  majesty,  that  I 
seemed  to  be  struck  again  by  the  recollection  of  her,  and 
I  again  asked  myself  whether  it  was  not  beginning.  And 
again  I  answered  myself  tliat  I  was  in  love  with  Souichka, 
and  that  Varenka  was  merely  a  young  lady,  the  sister  of 
my  friend.  But  she  pleased  me  at  that  moment,  and  in 
consequence,  I  was  seized  by  an  undefinable  desire  to  do 
or  tell  her  some  little  unpleasantness. 

"Do  you  know  what,  Dmitri?"  I  said  to  my  friend, 
walking  up  closer  to  Varenka,  so  that  she  might  hear  what 
I  was  saying,  "  I  find  that  even  without  the  mosquitoes 
there  would  not  be  anything  beautiful  here,  but  now,"  I 


366  YOUTH 

added,  slapping  my  forehead  and  really  killing  a  mosquito, 
"  it  is  no  good  at  all." 

"  You  do  not  seem  to  love  Nature,"  said  Varenka  to  me, 
without  turning  her  head. 

"  I  find  that  it  is  a  barren,  useless  occupation,"  I 
answered,  quite  satisfied  at  having  said  an  unpleasant 
thing  to  her,  and  an  original  one  at  that.  Varenka  barely 
raised  her  brows  for  a  moment,  with  an  expression  of  pity, 
and  just  as  calmly  continued  to  gaze  ahead  of  her. 

I  was  vexed  at  her,  and  yet,  the  gray,  faded  railing  of 
the  bridge  against  which  she  leaned,  the  reflection  of  the 
pendent  branch  of  the  overhanging  birch  in  the  dusky 
pond,  striving  to  unite  with  the  drooping  branches  above, 
the  swampy  odour,  the  feeling  of  a  crushed  mosquito  on 
my  forehead,  and  her  attentive  gaze  and  majestic  attitude 
frequently  afterward  appeared  suddenly  in  my  imagina- 
tion. 


XXVII. 

DMITRI 

When  we  returned  home  after  the  stroll,  Varenka  did 
not  wish  to  sing,  as  she  was  wont  to  do  of  an  evening, 
and  I  was  so  conceited  as  to  attribute  the  cause  of  it  to 
myself,  imagining  that  it  was  due  to  what  I  had  told  her 
on  the  bridge.  The  Nekhlyudovs  did  not  eat  supper,  and 
dispersed  early,  and  on  that  day,  when,  as  Sofya  Ivanovna 
had  predicted,  Dmitri's  teeth  really  began  to  ache,  we 
went  up  to  his  room  earlier  than  usual.  As  I  supposed 
that  I  had  accomphshed  all  that  my  blue  collar  and  my 
buttons  demanded,  and  that  all  were  pleased  with  me,  I 
was  in  a  very  agreeable  and  self-satisfied  frame  of  mind ; 
Dmitri,  on  the  contrary,  was  taciturn  and  gloomy,  on 
account  of  the  quarrel  and  the  toothache.  He  sat  down 
at  the  table,  took  out  his  note-books,  —  a  diary  and  a  copy- 
book where  he  was  in  the  habit  of  writing  down  every 
evening  his  future  and  past  occupations,  —  and,  continu- 
ally frowning  and  touching  his  cheek  with  his  hand,  was 
busy  writing  for  a  long  time. 

"Oh,  leave  me  alone!"  he  cried  at  the  chambermaid 
who  was  sent  by  Sofya  Ivanovna  to  ask  him  how  his 
toothache  was,  and  whether  he  did  not  want  a  hot  com- 
press. After  telling  me  that  ray  bed  would  soon  be  made 
up,  and  that  he  would  be  back  shortly,  he  went  to  Lyu- 
bov  Sergy^evna. 

"  What  a  pity  Varenka  is  not  pretty  and,  in  general, 

367 


368  YOUTH 

not  Sonichka,"  I  meditated,  when  I  was  left  alone  in  the 
room.  "  How  nice  it  would  be  after  leaving  the  uni- 
versity to  come  here  and  propose  to  her.  I  would  say : 
'  Princess,  I  am  not  young  any  more ;  I  cannot  love  pas- 
sionately, but  I  will  love  you  for  ever,  hke  a  dear  sister.' 
'  I  already  respect  you,'  I  would  say  to  her  mother,  *  and 
you,  Sofya  Ivanovna,  believe  me,  I  esteem  highly.'  '  So 
tell  me  straight  out :  will  you  be  my  wife  ? '  '  Yes.'  And 
she  will  give  me  her  hand,  and  I  shall  press  it,  and  shall 
say  :  '  My  love  is  not  in  words,  but  deeds.'  How  would 
it  be,"  it  occurred  to  me,  "  if  Dmitri  suddenly  fell  in  love 
with  Lyilbochka,  —  for  Lyilbochka  is  already  in  love  with 
him,  —  and  wanted  to  marry  her  ?  Then  one  of  us  would 
not  be  allowed  to  marry.  That  would  be  well.  Here  is 
what  I  would  do.  I  would  notice  it  at  once,  and  so  I 
would  come  to  Dmitri,  without  saying  anything  to  any- 
body else,  and  would  say  to  him :  '  My  friend,  it  would 
be  in  vain  for  us  to  conceal  it  from  each  other.  You 
know  that  my  love  for  your  sister  will  end  only  with  my 
life ;  but  I  know  all ;  you  have  deprived  me  of  my  best 
hope ;  you  have  made  me  unhappy.  Do  you  know  how 
Nikolay  Irt^nev  requites  the  unhappiaess  of  all  his  life  ? 
Here  is  my  sister,'  and  I  would  give  him  the  hand  of 
Lyilbochka.  He  would  say  :  '  No,  not  for  anything  in  the 
world  ! '  and  I  would  say :  '  Prince  Nekhlyudov,  you  are 
trying  in  vain  to  be  more  magnanimous  than  Nikolfiy 
Irt(5nev !  There  is  not  in  the  whole  world  a  more  mag- 
nanimous man  than  he.'  And  I  would  bow,  and  leave. 
Dmitri  and  Lyilbochka  would  run  out  after  me,  in 
tears,  and  implore  me  to  accept  their  sacrifice.  And  I 
might  consent,  and  even  be  very  happy,  if  only  I  were  in 
love  with  Varenka  — "  These  dreams  were  so  pleasant 
that  I  was  dying  to  communicate  them  to  my  friend,  but, 
in  spite  of  our  vow  of  mutual  frankness,  I  felt,  for  some 
reason  or  other,  that  there  was  no  physical  possibility  of 
telling  it. 


DMITRI  369 

Dmitri  returned  from  Lyubov  Sergy^evna  with  some 
drops  on  his  teeth,  which  she  had  given  him.  He  was 
suffering  more  than  before  and,  consequently,  was  more 
gloomy  still.  My  Ijed  had  not  yet  been  made,  and  a 
boy,  Dmitri's  servant,  came  to  ask  him  where  I  was  to 
sleep. 

"  Go  to  the  devil ! "  called  out  Dmitri,  stamping  his 
foot.  "Vaska!  Vaska!  Vaska!"  he  cried,  the  moment 
the  boy  had  left,  raising  his  voice  more  and  more. 
"  Vaska,  make  my  bed  on  the  floor ! " 

"  No,  I  had  better  lie  on  the  floor,"  I  said. 

"  Well,  all  right,  make  the  bed  anywhere,"  Dmitri  con- 
tinued in  the  same  angry  voice.  "  Vaska,  why  are  you  not 
making  the  bed  ? " 

But  Vaska  e\ddently  did  not  understand  what  he  was 
asked  to  do,  and  stood  motionless. 

"  Well,  what  is  the  matter  with  you  ?  Make  the  bed  ! 
Make  the  bed !  Vaska  1  Vaska ! "  Dmitri  cried,  suddenly 
bursting  into  a  fury. 

But  Vaska  did  not  understand  him,  being  all  perplexed, 
and  did  not  budge, 

"  Have  you  sworn  to  kill  —  to  drive  me  mad  ?  "  And 
Dmitri  jumped  from  his  chair,  ran  up  to  the  boy,  and  with 
all  his  might  struck  his  fist  against  the  head  of  Vaska, 
who  ran  headlong  out  of  the  room.  Stopping  at  the  door, 
Dmitri  turned  round  to  me,  and  the  expression  of  madness 
and  cruelty  which  had  been  on  his  face  but  a  second  ago, 
gave  way  to  such  a  meek,  shamefaced,  and  loving,  childish 
expression  that  I  was  sorry  for  him,  and,  however  much 
I  wanted  to  turn  away  from  him,  I  was  unable  to  do  so. 
He  did  not  say  anything  to  me,  but  silently  paced  the 
room  for  a  long  time,  now  and  then  casting  a  glance  at 
me,  with  the  same  expression  of  entreaty,  then  took  out 
his  note-book,  wrote  something  in  it,  took  ofi'  his  coat, 
carefully  put  it  away,  walked  into  the  corner  where  the 
image  was  hanging,  crossed  his  large  white  hands  over 


370  YOUTH 

his  breast,  and  began  to  pray.  He  prayed  so  long  that 
Vaska  had  time  to  bring  the  mattress  and  make  a  bed  on 
the  floor,  as  I  directed  him  in  a  whisper.  I  undressed 
myself  and  lay  down  on  the  bed  on  the  floor,  but  Dmitri 
was  still  praying.  As  I  looked  at  Dmitri's  slightly 
stooping  shoulders  and  at  the  soles  of  his  shoes,  which 
stood  out  before  me  in  all  humility,  every  time  he  was 
making  low  obeisances,  I  loved  Dmitri  even  more  than 
before,  and  I  considered  whether  or  not  I  had  better  tell 
him  what  I  had  been  dreaming  about  our  sisters.  When 
Dmitri  finished  his  prayer,  he  lay  down  on  the  bed  and, 
leaning  on  his  arm,  for  a  long  time  looked  silently  at  me, 
with  a  kind  and  shamefaced  expression.  It  was  a  hard 
thing  for  him  to  do  so,  but  he  seemingly  was  punishing 
himself.     I  smiled,  looking  at  him.     He  smiled,  too. 

"  Why  do  you  not  tell  me,"  he  said,  "  that  I  have  acted 
contemptibly  ?  That  is  what  you  liave  been  thinking 
about." 

"  Yes,"  I  answered  (although  I  had  been  thinking  of 
something  else,  it  seemed  to  me  that  I  had  really  been 
thinking  of  it),  "  yes,  it  was  very  bad.  I  had  never 
expected  such  a  thing  from  thee,"  I  said,  experiencing 
that  moment  a  special  pleasure  in  speaking  "  thou "  to 
him.     "  Well,  how  are  thy  teeth  ? "  I  added. 

"  That  is  all  over.  Ah,  Nikolenka,  my  friend ! "  said 
Dmitri,  so  gently  that  I  thought  there  were  tears  in  his 
eyes,  "  I  know  and  feel  how  bad  I  am,  and  God  sees  how 
I  wish  and  ask  Him  to  make  me  better ;  but  what  am 
I  to  do  if  I  have  such  an  unfortunate,  despicable  charac- 
ter ?  What  am  I  to  do  ?  I  try  to  restrain  and  to  re- 
form myself,  but  that  cannot  be  done  at  once,  nor  alone. 
It  is  necessary  that  some  one  should  support  and  aid  me. 
Now,  Lyubov  Sergy^evna  understands  me  and  has  helped 
me  much.  I  know,  by  my  diary,  that  I  have  greatly 
improved  in  the  course  of  the  year.  Ah,  Nikolenka,  my 
darling  !  "  he  continued,  after  this  confession,  with  unusual 


DMITRI  371 

tenderness,  and  in  a  calmer  voice,  "  how  much  the  influ- 
ence of  a  woman  like  her  means  !  0  Lord,  how  good  it 
will  be  when  I  am  independent,  with  such  a  companion  as 
she  !     I  am  a. different  man,  in  her  presence." 

Thereupon  Dmitri  began  to  evolve  all  his  plans  of 
marriage,  country  life,  and  uninterrupted  labour  over 
himself. 

"  I  shall  be  living  in  the  country,  you  will  come  to  see 
me,  and,  maybe,  you  will  be  married  to  Sdnichka,"  he 
said.  "  Our  children  will  play  together.  All  this  seems 
ridiculous  and  foolish,  and  yet  it  may  happen." 

"  Why  not  ?  It  is  very  likely,"  I  said,  smiling  and 
thinking  all  the  while  that  it  would  be  better  still  if  I 
married  his  sister. 

"  Do  you  know  what  I  will  tell  you  ?  "  he  said  to  me, 
after  a  short  silence.  "  You  only  imagine  that  you  are  in 
love  with  Sdnichka,  but,  as  I  see,  that  is  all  nonsense, 
and  you  do  not  know  yet  what  the  real  feeling  is  like." 

I  did  not  retort,  because  I  almost  agreed  with  him.  "We 
were  silent  for  a  moment. 

"  You  have  noticed  that  I  w^as  out  of  sorts  to-day  and 
had  a  bad  quarrel  with  Varya.  I  felt  ashamed  later  on, 
particularly  because  it  happened  in  your  presence.  Al- 
though she  does  not  think  the  right  way  about  many 
matters,  she  is  an  excellent  girl,  and  very  good,  as  you 
will  find  her  to  be  upon  closer  acquaintance." 

His  transition  in  the  conversation  from  the  subject  of 
my  not  being  in  love  to  the  praise  of  his  sister  gave  me 
great  joy  and  caused  me  to  blush  ;  still,  I  did  not  say 
anything  to  him  about  his  sister,  and  w^e  went  on  to  speak 
of  something  else. 

Thus  we  chatted  to  the  second  cockcrow,  and  the  pale 
dawn  peeped  through  the  window  when  Dmitri  went  over 
to  his  bed  and  extinguished  the  candle. 

"  Well,  now  to  sleep,"  he  said. 

"  Yes,"  I  answered,  "  only  one  word  more." 


372  YOUTH 

"  Well  ? " 

"  Is  it  nice  to  live  in  the  world  ? "  said  I. 

"  It  is  nice  to  live  in  the  world,"  he  answered,  in  such  a 
voice  that  it  seemed  I  could  see  in  the  darkness  the  ex- 
pression of  his  mirthful,  gentle  eyes  and  childlike  smile. 


XXVIII. 

IN    THE    COUNTRY 

The  next  day  Volodya  and  I  left  for  the  country  on 
post-horses.  On  the  road  I  passed  in  review  all  the  dif- 
ferent Moscow  reminiscences,  and  also  thought  of  S6- 
nichka  Valakliin,  but  not  before  evening,  when  we  had  five 
stations  behind  us.  "  Now,  this  is  strange,"  I  thought ; 
"  I  am  in  love,  and  have  entirely  forgotten  it.  I  must 
think  of  her."  And  I  began  to  think  of  her,  as  one 
thinks  while  travelling,  not  connectedly,  but  vividly  ;  and 
the  upshot  of  my  deliberations  was  that  when  I  arrived 
in  the  country,  I  considered  it  necessary  for  two  days  to 
appear  melancholy  and  pensive  before  the  home  people, 
and  in  particular  before  Katenka,  whom  I  regarded  as  a 
great  connoisseur  in  matters  of  this  kind,  and  to  whom  I 
hinted  a  bit  about  the  condition  my  heart  was  in.  Yet 
in  spite  of  all  my  attempts  at  feigning  before  myself  and 
others,  in  spite  of  all  the  intentional  adoption  of  all  the 
signs  which  I  had  observed  in  others  who  were  in  love,  I 
recalled  only  for  two  days,  and  that  not  continuously, 
but  more  especially  in  the  evenings,  that  I  was  in  love, 
and  finally,  as  soon  hs  I  entered  into  the  new  rut  of 
country  life  and  occupations,  I  completely  forgot  my  love 
for  Sonichka. 

We  arrived  at  Petrovskoe  in  the  night,  and  I  was  so 
fast  asleep  that  I  saw  neither  tlie  house,  nor  the  birch 
avenue,  nor  any  of  the  family,  who  had  all  gone  to  their 
rooms,  and  were  long  asleep.     Stooping  old  Foka,  bare- 

373 


374  YOUTH 

foot,  in  some  kind  of  a  woman's  wadded  jacket,  with  a 
candle  in  his  hand,  unlatched  the  door  for  us.  When  he 
saw  us,  he  shook  with  joy,  kissed  us  repeatedly  on  the 
shoulder,  hastily  removed  his  felt  bed,  and  began  to 
dress  himself.  T  passed  the  front  hall  and  the  staircase 
while  still  half  asleep,  but  in  the  antechamber  the  door- 
lock,  the  latch,  the  warped  floor,  the  clothes-chest,  the  old 
candlestick  stained  as  ever  by  tallow  drops,  the  shadows 
from  the  crooked,  cold,  just  lighted  wick  of  the  tallow 
dip,  the  ever  dusty,  unremoved  double  windows,  beyond 
which,  I  remembered,  grew  a  rowan-tree,  —  all  these  were 
so  familiar,  so  full  of  memories,  so  in  agreement  with  each 
other,  as  if  united  by  one  thought,  —  that  I  suddenly  felt 
the  caresses  of  the  dear  old  house  upon  me.  The  ques- 
tion involuntarily  presented  itself  to  me  :  How  could  the 
house  and  I  so  long  have  been  without  each  other  ?  and, 
hastening  somewhere,  I  ran  to  see  whether  all  the  rooms 
were  still  the  same.  Everything  was  the  same,  only 
everything  was  smaller  and  lower,  and  I  had  grown  taller, 
heavier,  and  coarser,  but  such  as  I  was,  the  house  joyfully 
received  me  in  its  embrace,  and  with  every  deal,  every 
window,  every  step  of  the  staircase,  every  sound,  awakened 
in  me  a  host  of  images,  feelings,  and  incidents  of  an  irre- 
trievable, happy  past.  We  came  to  the  sleeping-room  of 
our  childhood :  all  the  childish  terrors  again  nestled  in 
the  dusk  of  the  corners  and  doors  ;  we  passed  the  drawing- 
room  —  the  same  quiet,  tender  love  of  our  mother  was 
shed  over  all  the  objects  which  stood  there ;  we  passed 
the  parlour  —  the  noisy,  careless,  childish  mirth,  it  seemed, 
had  stopped  in  this  room,  and  was  only  waiting  to  be 
revived.  In  the  sofa-room,  whither  Foka  took  us,  and 
where  he  made  beds  for  us,  everything,  —  the  mirror, 
the  screen,  the  old  wooden  image,  every  unevenness  of 
the  wall  with  its  white  wall-paper,  —  everything  told 
of  suffering  and  of  death,  and  of  that  which  will  never 
be  again. 


IN    THE    COUNTRY  375 

We  lay  down,  and  Fdka  left  us,  wishing  us  a  good 
night. 

"  Is  it  in  this  room  mamma  died  ? "  said  Volodya. 

I  did  not  answer  him,  but  pretended  to  be  asleep.  If 
I  had  said  anything  I  should  have  burst  into  tears. 
When  I  awoke  the  next  morning,  I  found  papa,  undressed, 
in  slippers  and  dressing-gown,  with  a  cigar  in  his  mouth, 
sitting  on  Volodya's  bed,  and  speaking  and  laughing  with 
him.  He  jumped  up  from  the  bed  with  a  merry  shrug  of 
his  shoulders,  walked  up  to  me  and,  slapping  my  back 
with  his  large  hand,  placed  his  cheek  before  me  and 
pressed  it  to  my  lips. 

"  Well,  that  is  good,  glad  of  it,  diplomat,"  he  said 
with  his  particular,  mirthful  kindness,  gazing  at  me  with 
his  small  shining  eyes.  "  A^olodya  says  that  you  have 
passed  a  good  examination,  like  a  fine  fellow,  —  that  is 
good.  Whenever  you  make  up  your  mind  not  to  fool 
away  your  time,  you  are  a  nice  chap,  too.  I  am  glad, 
my  dear.  Now  we  shall  have  a  good  time  here,  and  in 
the  winter  we  shall,  perhaps,  settle  in  St.  Petersburg. 
What  a  pity  the  hunting  season  is  past,  or  I  should  have 
given  you  the  pleasure  of  that  sport ;  well,  can  you  hunt 
with  a  gun,  Voldemar  ?  There  is  a  lot  of  game,  and  I 
may  go  out  with  you  some  day.  In  the  winter,  God 
willing,  we  shall  settle  in  St.  Petersburg,  and  you  will 
meet  people  and  form  ties,  —  you  are  now  my  big  lads. 
I  just  told  Voldemar,  you  are  now  on  the  road,  my  work 
is  done,  you  may  go  yourselves,  and  if  you  wish  to  take 
my  advice,  I  shall  give  it  to  you.  I  am  no  longer  your 
nurse,  but  your  friend ;  at  least,  I  want  to  be  your  friend 
and  companion  and  adviser,  wherever  I  can,  and  nothing 
else.  How  is  that  according  to  your  philosophy,  Koko, 
eh  ?     Good  or  bad  ?     Eh  ? " 

I,  naturally,  told  him  that  it  was  good,  and  really 
found  it  so.  Papa  had  that  day  an  especially  attractive, 
mirthful,  and  happy  expression ;  these  new  relations  with 


376  YOUTH 

me,  as  with  an  equal,  a  compauion,  made  me  love  him 
even  more. 

"  Well,  tell  me,  did  you  call  on  all  your  relatives  ? 
At  the  Ivius  ?  Did  you  see  the  old  man  ?  What  did 
he  say  to  you  ? "  he  continued  to  ask.  "  Were  you  at 
the  home  of  Prince  Ivan  Ivanovich  ? " 

We  conversed  so  long  without  getting  dressed  that  the 
sun  was  beginniog  to  pass  away  from  the  windows  of 
the  sofa-room,  and  Yakov  (who  was  just  as  old,  and  just 
in  the  same  way  twirled  his  fiugers  behind  his  back) 
came  into  our  room  and  announced  to  papa  that  the 
carriage  was  ready. 

"  Whither  are  you  going  ?  "  I  asked  papa. 

"  Oh,  I  forgot,"  said  papa,  with  a  jerk  of  annoyance, 
and  coughing.  "  I  have  promised  to  call  on  the  Epifanovs 
to-day.  You  remember  Miss  Epifanov,  la  belle  Flamande  ? 
She  used  to  visit  your  mamma.  They  are  excelleut 
people."  Papa  left  the  room,  jerking  his  shoulder,  as 
1  thought,  bashfully. 

Lyubochka  had  come  up  several  times  to  the  door, 
during  our  chat,  and  asked,  "  May  I  come  in  ? "  but  papa 
every  time  called  out  to  her  through  the  door,  "By  no 
means,  for  we  are  not  yet  dressed." 

"  What  of  it  ?  I  have  seen  you  often  in  your  dressing- 
gown." 

"  You  cannot  see  your  brothers  without  their  *  inex- 
pressibles,' "  he  cried  to  her.  "  Now,  they  will  both' 
knock  at  the  door  for  you,  —  will  that  do  you  ?  Knock. 
It  is  even  indecent  for  them  to  speak  to  you,  while  they 
are  in  such  neglig(5e." 

"  Oh,  how  intolerable  you  are !  At  least  come  as  soon 
as  possible  to  the  drawing-room,  for  Mimi  wants  to  see 
you,"  Lyubochka  cried  through  the  door. 

As  soon  as  papa  left  us,  I  hurriedly  dressed  myself  in 
the  student  coat,  and  went  to  tiie  drawing-room.  Volodya, 
on  the  contrary,  was  in  no  haste,  and  stayed  awhUe  up- 


IN    THE    COUNTRT  377 

stairs,  talking  to  Yakov  about  the  places  where  snipes 
and  woodcocks  were  abundant.  As  I  have  said  before, 
he  was  afraid  of  nothing  as  much  as  of  what  he  called 
"  tendernesses,"  with  brother,  papa,  or  sister,  and,  avoid- 
ing every  expression  of  sentiment,  fell  into  the  other 
extreme,  —  coldness,  which  frequently  gave  painful  offence 
to  people  who  did  not  understand  its  causes.  In  the 
antechamber  I  stumbled  on  papa,  who  with  short,  rapid 
steps  was  hastening  to  take  his  seat  in  the  carriage.  He 
was  dressed  in  his  new,  fashionable  Moscow  coat,  and 
was  scented  with  perfume.  When  he  saw  me,  he  merrily 
nodded  to  me,  as  if  to  say,  "  You  see,  it  is  fine ! "  and 
again  I  was  struck  by  the  happy  expression  on  his  face, 
which  I  had  noticed  in  the  morning. 

The  drawing-room  was  the  same  bright,  high  room.,  with 
the  yellow  English  grand  piano  and  large  open  windows, 
through  which  looked  merrily  the  green  trees  and  the 
reddish  brown  paths  of  the  garden.  After  kissing  Mimi 
and  Lyilbochka,  I  walked  up  to  Katenka,  but  it  suddenly 
occurred  to  me  tliat  it  was  no  longer  proper  to  kiss  her, 
and  I  stopped,  in  silence,  and  blushing.  Katenka  was 
not  in  the  least  confused,  gave  me  her  white  little  hand, 
and  congratulated  me  on  having  entered  the  university. 
When  Volodya  came  to  the  drawing-room,  the  same  thing 
happened  to  him,  at  his  meeting  with  Katenka.  Indeed, 
it  was  hard  to  decide,  after  we  had  grown  up  together, 
and  seen  each  other  every  day,  how  we  were  to  meet 
now,  after  our  first  separation.  Katenka  blushed  more 
than  we.  Volodya  was  not  in  the  least  abashed,  but 
bowed  to  her  hghtly,  and  went  over  to  Lyubochka,  with 
whom  he  spoke  but  little,  and  not  at  all  seriously,  and 
then  they  went  out  for  a  stroll. 


XXIX. 

OUR   RELATIONS    WITH    THE    GIRLS 

VoLODYA  held  veiy  strange  views  about  the  girls.  He 
could  be  interested  by  such  questions  as  whether  they 
had  had  enough  to  eat,  whether  they  had  slept  well, 
whether  they  were  decently  dressed,  whether  they  did 
not  make  mistakes  in  speaking  French,  for  which  he 
would  have  to  be  ashamed  before  strangers, —  but  he  did 
not  admit  the  thought  that  they  could  think  or  feel  any- 
thing human,  and  still  less  did  he  admit  the  possibility 
of  discussing  anything  with  them.  Whenever  they  had 
occasion  to  turn  to  him  with  some  serious  question 
(which,  however,  they  tried  to  avoid),  when  they  asked 
his  opinion  about  some  novel,  or  about  his  occupations 
at  the  university,  he  made  faces  at  them  and  walked 
away  in  silence,  or  answered  them  in  a  contorted  French 
sentence,  "  Comme  c'^  tri  joli,"  and  so  forth,  or,  looking 
serious  and  purposely  stupid,  he  told  them  a  word  that 
had  no  meaning  whatsoever,  and  no  reference  to  the 
question,  and  suddenly  pronounced,  with  dull  eyes,  such 
words  as  "  roll "  or  "  gone,"  or  "  calibage,"  or  something 
of  the  kind.  If  I  repeated  to  him  what  Lyiibochka  and 
Katenka  had  said  to  me,  he  invariably  answered : 

"  H'm,  so  you  still  discuss  with  them  ?  No,  you,  I  see, 
are  no  good  yet." 

One  would  have  to  hear  and  see  him  in  order  to 
appreciate  the  deep,  invariable  contempt  which  was  ex- 
pressed in  that  phrase.     Volodya  had  now  been  a  grown 

378 


OUR   RELATIONS    WITH    THE    GIRLS  379 

man  for  two  years,  aud  fell  continually  in  love  with  all  the 
pretty  women  whom  he  met ;  but,  although  he  every  day 
met  Katenka,  who  had  been  wearing  long  dresses  for  two 
years,  and  was  all  the  time  getting  prettier,  the  possibility 
of  falling  in  love  with  her  had  never  occurred  to  him. 
Whether  it  originated  in  the  fact  that  the  prosaic  remi- 
niscences of  childhood,  the  ruler,  the  sheet,  the  caprices, 
were  still  too  fresh  in  his  memory,  or  in  the  disgust 
which  very  young  people  feel  for  everything  domestic, 
or  in  the  universal  human  weakness,  when  meeting  upon 
the  first  path  something  good  and  beautiful,  to  pass  by  it, 
saying  to  oneself :  "  Oh,  I  shall  meet  many  more  of  this 
kind  in  my  life,"  —  Volodya  continued  to  look  upon 
Katenka  as  not  a  woman. 

Volodya  suffered  much  ennui  during  that  summer. 
This  ennui  was  caused  by  the  contempt  in  which  he  held 
us,  and  which  he  did  not  attempt  to  conceal.  The  con- 
stant expression  of  his  face  said,  "  Pshaw,  what  ennui, 
and  nobody  to  talk  to  ! "  He  would  go  out  in  the  morn- 
ing with  his  gun  to  hunt,  or  he  would  stay  undressed 
until  dinner  in  his  room,  reading  a  book.  If  papa  was 
not  at  home,  he  even  came  to  dinner  with  his  book,  con- 
tinuing to  read  it,  and  not  exchanging  a  word  with  any 
of  us,  which  made  us  all  feel  guilty  before  him.  In  the 
evening  he  lay  down  with  his  feet  on  a  sofa  in  the  draw- 
ing-room, slept  leaning  on  his  arm,  or  with  a  most  serious 
countenance  told  some  most  terrible,  often  quite  improper, 
nonsense,  which  made  Mimi  furious  and  brought  out  red 
spots  on  her  face,  but  caused  us  to  die  with  laughter ;  but 
he  never  condescended  to  speak  seriously  with  any  one 
of  our  family,  except  with  papa  and  occasionally  with  me. 
I  quite  involuntarily  imitated  my  brother's  view  in  regard 
to  the  girls,  although  I  was  not  at  all  so  afraid  of  tender- 
nesses as  he,  and  my  contempt  for  the  girls  was  far 
from  being  as  strong  and  deep.  From  sheer  ennui  I  tried 
that  summer  several  times  to  get  on  a  closer  footing  with 


380  YOUTH 

Lyiibochka  and  Katenka  and  to  converse  with  them,  but 
I  found  in  them  every  time  such  an  inabihty  to  think 
logically,  and  such  ignorance  of  the  simplest,  commonest 
things,  as  what  money  was,  what  people  studied  at  the 
university,  what  war  was,  and  so  on,  and  such  an  indiffer- 
ence to  the  explanations  of  these  things,  that  my  attempts 
only  confirmed  me  in  my  unfavourable  opinion  of  them. 

I  remember  how  one  evening  Lyubochka  repeated  for 
the  hundredth  time  some  dreadfully  tiresome  passage  on 
the  piano,  while  Volodya  lay  dozing  on  the  sofa  in  the 
drawing-room,  and  now  and' then,  with  a  certain  malicious 
irony,  not  speaking  to  anybody  in  particular,  mumbled : 
"  She  does  bang  !  —  Musician  !  —  Bitkhoven  ! "  (he  pro- 
nounced this  word  with  especial  irony),  "let  her  go  — 
once  more  —  that's  it,"  and  so  on.  Katenka  and  I  re- 
mained at  the  tea-table,  and,  I  do  not  remember  how, 
Katenka  led  up  to  her  favourite  subject  —  love.  I  was 
in  a  mood  to  philosophize,  and  began  superciliously  to 
define  love  as  a  desire  to  obtain  in  another  what  one  did 
not  possess  in  himself,  and  so  forth.  Katenka  answered 
me  that,  on  the  contrary,  it  was  not  love  when  a  girl 
thought  of  marrying  a  rich  man,  and  that  possessions 
were,  in  her  opinion,  a  very  unimportant  matter,  and  that 
genuine  love  was  only  that  which  could  last  through 
separation  (I  knew  at  once  she  referred  to  her  love  for 
Dubkov).  Volodya,  who,  no  doubt,  had  heard  our  con- 
versation, suddenly  raised  himself  on  his  elbow  and 
interrogatively  called  out,  "  Katenka  —  the  Eussians  ? " 

"  His  eternal  nonsense ! "  said  Katenka. 

''  Into  the  pepperbox  ? "  continued  Volodya,  accentuating 
every  vowel,  I  could  not  help  thinking  that  Volodya 
was  quite  right. 

Independently  of  the  common,  more  or  less  developed, 
faculties  of  the  human  mind,  of  sentiment,  and  artistic 
feeling,  there  exists  a  private  faculty,  more  or  less  devel- 
oped in  various  circles  of  society,  and  especially  in  famihes, 


OUR    RELATIONS    WITH    THE    GIRLS  381 

which  I  call  "  uuderstanding."  The  essence  of  this  faculty 
consists  in  a  conventional  feeling  of  measure,  and  in  a 
conventional  one-sided  view  of  things.  Two  people  of 
the  same  circle,  or  of  the  same  family,  who  possess  this 
faculty,  permit  the  expression  of  sentiment  to  a  certain 
point,  after  which  they  both  see  nothing  but  empty 
phrases;  they  see  at  exactly  the  same  moment  where 
praise  ends  and  irony  begins,  where  enthusiasm  ends  and 
hypocrisy  begins,  which  to  people  with  different  under- 
standing may  appear  quite  otherwise.  People  with  the 
same  understanding  are  impressed  by  every  object,  more 
especially  by  its  ridiculous,  or  beautiful,  or  nasty  side. 
To  facilitate  this  equal  understanding  among  the  members 
of  the  same  circle  or  family,  there  establishes  itself  a 
conventional  language,  conventional  expressions,  and  even 
words,  which  define  those  shades  of  meaning  that  do  not 
exist  for  others.  In  our  family,  this  understanding  was 
highly  developed  between  papa  and  us  brothers.  Dubkov 
also  fell  in  with  our  circle  and  "  understood,"  but  Dmitri, 
who  otherwise  was  much  more  clever  than  he,  was  dull 
in  this.  With  no  one  did  I  carry  this  faculty  to  such 
perfection  as  with  Volddya,  with  whom  I  had  been  brought 
up  under  identical  conditions.  Papa  was  falling  behind 
us,  and  much  which  was  to  us  as  clear  as  two  times 
two  is  four,  was  incomprehensible  to  him.  For  example, 
between  Volodya  and  me  were  estabhshed,  God  knows 
why,  the  following  words  with  their  corresponding  mean- 
ings :  "  raisins  "  meant  a  vain  desire  to  show  that  I  have 
money ;  "  pinecone  "  (whereat  it  was  necessary  to  put  the 
fingers  together  and  distinctly  to  pronounce  the  conso- 
nants) signified  something  fresh,  healthy,  elegant,  but  not 
foppish ;  a  noun  used  in  the  plural  signified  an  unjust 
prejudice  in  favour  of  that  object,  and  so  forth.  However, 
the  meaning  depended  more  on  the  expression  of  the  face, 
and  on  the  subject  under  discussion,  so  that  no  matter 
what  new  word  one   used  to  express  a  new  shade,  the 


382  YOUTH 

other  immediately  understood  it  by  the  mere  reference. 
The  girls  did  not  have  our  understanding,  and  that  was 
the  chief  cause  of  our  moral  disunion,  and  of  the  contempt 
which  we  felt  for  them. 

It  may  be  they  had  their  own  "  understanding,"  but  it 
so  differed  from  ours,  that  where  we  saw  only  twaddle, 
they  saw  feeling,  and  our  irony  appeared  as  truth  to  them. 
At  that  time  I  did  not  understand  that  they  were  not  to 
blame  for  it,  and  that  this  absence  of  understanding  did 
not  prevent  their  being  good  and  clever  girls,  and  I  had 
contempt  for  them^  Then,  having  made  a  hobby  of  frank- 
ness, and  applying  this  idea  to  myself  in  the  extreme,  I  j 
accused  the  quiet  and  trustful  nature  of  Lyubochka  of  fl 
secretiveness  and  hypocrisy  because  she  did  not  see  any  " 
necessity  for  unearthing  and  displaying  all  her  thoughts 
and  feelings.  For  example,  Lyubochka's  making  the  sign 
of  the  cross  over  papa  in  the  evening,  her  weeping  and 
that  of  Katenka  in  the  chapel,  whenever  they  went  to 
serve  mass  for  mother,  Katenka's  sighing  and  rolling  her 
eyes,  when  she  played  on  the  piano,  —  all  that  appeared 
to  me  as  the  )nerest  hypocrisy,  and  I  asked  myself : 
"  When  did  they  learn  to  feign  like  grown  people,  and 
why  are  they  not  ashamed  ? " 


XXX. 

MY   OCCUPATIONS 

In  spite  of  it  all,  I  became  that  summer  much  more 
friendly  with  our  young  ladies,  through  my  newly  mani- 
fested passion  for  music.  In  the  spring  a  young  neigh- 
bour introduced  himself  at  our  house.  The  moment  he 
entered  the  drawing-rooni  he  began  to  gaze  at  the  piano 
and  imperceptibly  to  move  his  chair  up  to  it,  while 
speaking  with  Mimi  and  Katenka.  After  having  said 
something  about  the  weather  and  the  pleasures  of  country 
life,  he  skilfully  led  up  the  conversation  to  a  piano  tuner, 
to  music,  and  to  the  piano,  and  finally  announced  to  us 
that  ho  played,  and,  indeed,  soon  played  for  us  three 
waltzes,  while  Lyilbochka,  Mimi,  and  Katenka  stood  at 
the  piano  and  looked  at  him.  This  young  man  never 
called  at  our  house  again,  but  I  took  a  great  liking  to  his 
playing,  his  attitude  at  the  piano,  his  head-shake,  and 
especially  his  manner  of  taking  octaves  with  his  left  hand, 
by  rapidly  stretching  his  httle  finger  and  thumb  to  an 
octave  span,  then  slowly  bringing  them  together,  and 
again  swiftly  stretching  them.  This  graceful  gesture,  his 
careless  attitude,  his  head-shake,  and  the  attention  which 
the  ladies  showed  to  his  talent  gave  me  the  idea  of  play- 
ing the  piano.  In  consequence  of  this  idea  and  because  I 
convinced  myself  that  I  had  talent  and  a  passion -for 
music,  I  began  studying  it.  In  this  respect  I  acted  like 
millions  of  people,  of  the  masr-uline,  but  particularly  of 
the  feminine  sex,  who  study  without  a  good  teacher,  with- 

383 


S84  YouTil 

out  a  real  calling,  and  without  the  least  conception  what 
this  art  can  offer  them,  and  how  they  are  to  go  about  it 
in  order  that  it  should  offer  them  something.  For  me, 
music,  or  rather  piano  playing,  was  a  means  to  charm  the 
girls  with  my  sentiments.  With  the  aid  of  Katenka,  I 
learned  the  notes,  and  limbered  up  my  fat  fingers ;  how- 
ever, I  used  more  than  two  months  to  accomplish  this, 
and  was  so  studious  that  even  at  dinner  I  practised  with 
my  refractory  ring-finger  on  my  Icnee,  and  in  my  bed  on 
my  pillow.  I  soon  began  to  play  "pieces,"  and  played 
them,  of  course,  with  feeling,  avec  dme,  as  Katenka  herself 
admitted,  but  not  in  time. 

The  choice  of  pieces  was  the  usual  one,  waltzes,  galops, 
romances,  arranged  arias,  and  so  forth,  all  by  those 
charming  composers,  of  which  every  man  with  a  httle 
healthy  taste  will  select  a  small  pile  from  a  mass  of  beau- 
tiful things  in  a  music  store,  saying,  "  These  things  one 
ought  never  to  play,  because  nothing  more  insipid  and 
stupid  has  ever  been  put  down  on  music  paper,"  and 
which,  no  doubt,  for  this  very  reason,  you  may  find  on 
the  piano  of  every  Eussian  young  lady.  It  is  true  we  had 
also  "  Sonate  Path(^tique "  and  the  Cis-mol  sonatas  of 
Beethoven,  for  ever  maimed  and  torn  by  the  young  ladies, 
which  Lyiibochka  played  in  memory  of  mother,  and  a 
few  other  good  things  which  her  Moscow  teacher  had 
given  her ;  but  there  were  also  compositions  by  that 
teacher,  insipid  marches  and  galops,  wiiich  Lyubochka 
played  also. 

Katenka  and  I  did  not  like  serious  things,  and  preferred 
to  everything  "  Le  Fou "  and  "  The  Nightingale,"  which 
Katenka  played  so  that  the  fingers  could  not  be  seen,  and 
I  began  to  play  quite  loud  and  smoothly.  I  appropriated 
to  myself  the  gesture  of  the  young  man,  and  frequently 
regretted  that  there  were  no  strangers  to  see  me  play. 
Soon  Liszt  and  Kalkbrenner  proved  to  be  above  my 
strength,    and    I    saw   no    chance    of   catching   up   with 


MY    OCCUPATIONS  385 

Katenka.  For  this  reason,  having  concluded  that  clas- 
sical music  is  easier,  and  also  for  the  sake  of  originality,  I 
suddenly  decided  that  I  liked  the  German  classical  music, 
became  enthusiastic  whenever  Lyubochka  played  "Senate 
Pathetique,"  although,  to  tell  the  truth,  that  sonata  had 
long  been  palling  upon  me,  and  began  myself  to  play 
Beethoven  and  to  pronounce  his  name  in  the  German 
fashion.  Through  all  that  tangle  and  hypocrisy  I  had,  as 
I  remember,  something  like  talent,  because  music  fre- 
quently affected  me  powerfully  to  tears,  and  the  things 
that  I  liked  I  managed  to  pick  out  on  the  piano  without 
notes,  so  that  if  somebody  had  taught  me  then  to  look 
upon  music  as  an  aim,  as  an  independent  enjoyment,  and 
not  as  a  means  with  which  to  charm  girls  hj  the  rapidity 
and  expressiveness  of  my  playing,  I  might  have  in  reality 
become  a  decent  musician. 

The  reading  of  French  novels,  of  which  Volodya  had 
brought  many  with  him,  was  my  other  occupation  during 
that  summer.  It  was  then  that  all  kinds  of  "  Monte 
Cristos  "  and  "  Secrets  "  began  to  appear,  and  I  pored  over 
the  books  of  Sue,  Dumas,  and  Paul  de  Kock.  All  the 
most  unnatural  persons  and  incidents  were  as  true  to  me 
as  reality,  and  I  not  only  did  not  dare  to  suspect  the 
author  of  lying,  but  the  author  himself  did  not  exist  for 
me;  from  the  printed  page  rose  before  me  the  living,  real 
people  and  incidents.  If  I  nowhere  had  met  people  that 
resembled  those  of  whom  I  read,  I  did  not  for  a  moment 
doubt  that  I  should  some  day. 

I  experienced  in  myself  all  the  passions  described,  and 
perceived  a  similarity  between  me  and  all  tlie  characters, 
both  the  heroes  and  the  villains  of  every  novel,  just  as  a 
susceptible  man  finds  in  himself  the  symptoms  of  every 
possible  disease,  when  he  reads  a  medical  work.  I  liked 
in  these  novels  the  cunning  ideas,  the  fiery  passions,  the 
magic  incidents,  the  perfect  characters,  —  if  good,  abso- 
lutely good,  if  bad,  absolutely  bad,  —  just  as  in  my  first 


386  rouTH 

youth  I  imagined  people  to  be ;  I  was  also  very  much 
pleased  because  it  was  all  in  French,  and  because  the 
noble  words  which  the  noble  heroes  spoke,  I  could  learn 
by  heart  and  quote  on  the  occasion  of  some  noble  deed. 
How  many  different  J^reuch  phrases  I  thought  out  by  the 
aid  of  these  novels,  to  be  used  to  Kolpikov,  if  I  ever  met 
him,  and  to  her,  when  I  should  at  last  see  her  and  confess 
my  love  to  her !  I  was  preparing  to  tell  them  something 
from  which  they  would  be  overcome  the  moment  they 
heard  me. 

On  the  basis  of  the  novels,  I  even  formed  new  ideals  of 
moral  qualities  which  I  strove  to  attain.  I  wished  above 
everything  in  all  my  acts  and  affairs  to  be  "  noble  "  (I 
use  the  French  word,  because  it  has  a  different  signifi- 
cance from  the  Eussian,  which  the  Germans  have  compre- 
hended, by  adopting  the  word  "  nobel "  and  not  mixing  it 
up  with  the  conception  of  "  ehrlich  "),  then  to  be  passion- 
ate, and  finally,  to  be  as  comme  il  faut  as  possible,  for 
which,  however,  I  had  a  leaning  even  before.  I  tried  in 
my  looks  and  habits  to  resemble  the  heroes  who  had  any 
of  these  qualities.  I  remember,  in  one  of  the  hundred 
books  which  I  had  read  that  summer,  there  was  one 
exceedingly  passionate  hero  with  thick  eyebrows,  and  I 
was  so  anxious  to  resemble  him  in  appearance  (I  felt 
myself  morally  to  be  his  equal)  that  when  I  looked  at  my 
eyebrows  in  the  mirror,  I  decided  to  cut  them  a  little  that 
they  might  grow  out  thicker ;  but  when  I  began  to  cut 
them,  I  accidently  cut  too  much  in  one  spot,  and  it  was 
necessary  to  even  them  up ;  to  my  terror  I  noticed  in  the 
mirror  that  I  had  lost  my  eyebrows  altogether,  and,  con- 
sequently, was  very  ill-looking.  But  hoping  that  my 
brows  would  soon  grow  out  thick  as  in  a  passionate  man, 
I  consoled  myself,  and  was  only  disconcerted  as  to  what 
to  say  to  my  people  when  they  should  see  me  without 
eyebrows.  I  got  some  powder  from  Volddya,  rubbed  it 
into  my  eyebrows  and  burnt  it.     Although  the  powder 


MY    OCCUPATIONS 


387 


did  not  flash  up,  I  sufficiently  resembled  one  who  is 
burnt,  and  no  one  discovered  my  cunning;  and  really, 
when  I  had  entirely  forgotten  about  the  passionate  man, 
my  eyebrows  grew  much  thicker. 


XXXL 

COMME    IL    FAUT 

In  the  course  of  this  narrative  I  have  frequently  hinted 
at  the  conception  which  corresponds  to  this  French  titk^. 
and  now^  I  feel  myself  constrained  to  devote  a  whole  chap- 
ter to  the  conception  that  was  one  of  the  most  disastrous 
and  false  ideas  with  which  I  was  ii.oculated  by  educa- 
tion and  society. 

The  human  race  may  be  divided  into  a  variety  of 
classes,  —  into  rich  and  poor,  good  and  bad,  soldiers  and 
citizens,  wise  and  foolish,  and  so  on ;  but  every  man 
invariably  has  a  favourite  chief  classification  of  his  own, 
in  which  he  unconsciously  places  every  new  person.  My 
chief  and  favourite  classification  at  the  time  of  which  I 
am  writing  was  into  people  comine  il  faut  and  comme  il 
ne  faut  i^as.  The  second  division  was  subdivided  into 
people  more  particularly  not  comme  il  faut,  and  into  the 
common  people.  I  respected  people  comme  il  faut,  and 
considered  them  worthy  of  being  on  an  equality  of  rela- 
tions with  me ;  I  pretended  a  contempt  for  the  second, 
but  in  reality  hated  them,  cherishing  against  them  an 
offended  feeling  of  personality ;  the  third  did  not  exist  for 
me,  —  I  disregarded  them  entirely.  My  comme  il  faut 
consisted,  first  and  foremost,  in  the  use  of  an  excellent 
French,  more  especially  in  the  pronunciation.  A  man 
who  pronounced  French  badly  immediately  provoked  a 
feeling  of  hatred  in  me.  "  Why  do  you  attempt  to  speak 
as  we  do,  if  you  do  not  know  how?"  I  asked  him  men- 

388 


COMME    IL    FAUT  389 

tally,  with  a  venomous  smile.  The  second  condition  for 
comme  il  faut  consisted  in  long,  manicured,  and  clean 
nails.  The  third  was  the  ability  to  curtsey,  dance,  and 
converse.  The  fourth,  and  this  was  very  important,  was 
an  indifference  to  everything,  and  a  constant  expression 
of  a  certain  elegant,  supercilious  ennui.  In  addition  to 
these,  I  had  common  signs,  by  which  I  decided  to  what 
category  a  man  belonged,  even  without  speaking  with  him. 
My  chief  sign,  outside  of  the  room,  gloves,  handwriting, 
and  carriage,  were  the  feet.  The  relation  of  a  man's  boots 
to  his  pantaloons  at  once  decided  in  my  eyes  his  standing. 
Boots  without  heels,  with  sharp  tips,  and  narrow  borders 
of  the  pantaloons  without  straps,  —  that  was  a  common 
man ;  boots  with  narrow  round  tips,  and  with  heels,  and 
pantaloons  with  narrow  borders  and  straps,  tightly  fitting 
the  legs,  or  broad,  with  straps  standing  out  like  canopies 
over  the  tips,  —  that  was  a  man  mauvais  genre,  and  so 
forth. 

It  is  strange  that  this  conception  of  comme  il  faut 
should  have  become  such  a  part  of  me,  for  I  myself  did 
not  possess  the  least  fitness  for  it.  And,  maybe,  it  took 
such  strong  possession  of  me,  for  the  very  reason  that  it 
cost  me  such  effort  to  acquire  this  comme  il  faut.  It  is 
terrible  to  think  how  much  invaluable  time  of  my  seven- 
teenth year  I  wasted  on  the  acquisition  of  this  quality. 
It  seemed  to  me  that  all  those  whom  I  imitated,  Volddya, 
Dubkdv,  and  the  larger  part  of  my  acquaintances,  learned 
it  with  ease,  I  looked  at  them  with  envy,  and  quietly 
worked  at  my  French,  at  the  art  of  bowing  without  look- 
ing at  the  person  to  whom  I  bowed,  at  the  art  of  convers- 
ing and  dancing,  at  evolving  in  myself  an  indifference  to 
everything  and  ennui,  at  my  nails,  cutting  my  flesh  to  the 
quick  with  scissors,  —  and  I  still  felt  that  there  was  much 
labour  left  before  I  should  reach  the  goal.  My  room,  my 
writing-desk,  my  carriage,  —  all  that  I  was  unable  to 
arrange  in  such  a  way  as  to  be  comme  il  faut,  although. 


390  YOUTH 

in  spite  of  my  disinclination  for  practical  work,  I  laboured 
very  hard  over  it.  With  others  everything  seemed  to  go 
right,  without  the  least  effort,  as  though  it  could  not  be 
otherwise. 

I  remember  how  once,  after  a  prolonged  and  vain  effort 
over  my  nails,  I  asked  Dubkov,  whose  nails  were  remark- 
ably beautiful,  how  long  they  had  been  in  that  shape,  and 
how  he  had  managed  it.  Dubkov  answered  me  :  "  As  far 
back  as  I  can  remember  myself,  I  have  done  nothing  to 
make  them  so,  and  I  cannot  understand  how  a  decent  fel- 
low can  have  any  other  nails."  This  answer  grieved  me 
very  much.  I  did  not  know  at  that  time  that  one  of  the 
chief  conditions  of  comme  il  faiit  was  secrecy  in  regard  to 
the  labours  by  which  this  conwie  il  faut  is  acquired. 

Comme  il  faut  was  for  me  not  only  an  important  merit, 
a  beautiful  quality,  a  perfection,  which  I  wished  to  obtain, 
but  it  was  a  necessary  condition  of  life,  without  which 
there  could  be  no  happiness,  no  glory,  nothing  good  in  the 
world.  I  should  not  have  respected  a  famous  artist,  a 
savant,  a  benefactor  of  the  human  race,  if  he  were  not 
comme  il  faut.  A  man  comme  il  faut  stood  beyond  com- 
parison higher  than  they ;  he  left  it  to  them  to  paint, 
compose  music,  write  books,  and  do  good,  he  even  praised 
them  for  it,  —  why  not  praise  the  good  wherever  it  may 
be  found?  —  but  he  could  not  place  himself  on  the  same 
level  with  them,  for  he  was  comme  il  fcait,  and  they  were 
not,  —  and  that  was  enough.  It  seems  to  me  that  if  I 
had  had  a  brother,  mother,  or  father  who  were  not  comme 
il  faut,  I  should  have  said  that  it  was  a  misfortune,  and 
that  there  could  be  nothing  in  common  between  me  and 
them. 

But  not  the  loss  of  the  golden  time,  which  was 
employed  on  the  assiduous  task  of  preserving  all  the  diffi- 
cult conditions  of  the  cortvme  il  faut,  that  excluded  every 
serious  application,  nor  the  hatred  and  contempt  for  nine- 
teuths  of  the  human  race,  nor  the  absence  of  any  interest 


COMME    IL    FAUT  391 

in  all  the  beauty  that  existed  outside  that  circle  of  comme 
il  faut,  was  the  greatest  evil  which  this  coDception  caused 
me.  The  greatest  evil  consisted  in  the  conviction  that 
comme  il  faut  was  an  independent  position  in  society,  that 
a  man  did  not  have  to  try  to  be  an  official,  or  a  carriage- 
maker,  or  a  soldier,  or  a  learned  man,  if  he  was  comme  il 
faut ;  that,  having  reached  that  position,  he  had  already 
fulfilled  his  purpose,  and  even  stood  higher  than  most 
people. 

At  a  certain  period  of  his  youth,  every  man,  after  many 
blunders  and  transports,  generally  faces  the  necessity  of 
taking  an  active  part  in  social  life,  chooses  some  depart- 
ment of  labour,  and  devotes  himself  to  it ;  but  this  seldom 
happens  v/ith  the  man  who  is  comme  il  faut.  I  know 
many,  very  many  old,  proud,  self-confident  people,  sharp 
in  their  judgments,  who  to  the  question  which  may  be 
given  in  the  next  world,  "  Who  are  you  ?  And  what 
have  you  been  doing  there  ? "  would  not  be  able  to 
answer  otherwise  than  :  "  Je  fits  un  homme  tres  comme  il 
fautr 

This  fate  awaited  me. 


XXXII 

YOUTH 

In  spite  of  the  jumble  of  ideas  which  took  place  in  my 
head,  I  was  in  those  years  young,  innocent,  and  free,  and, 
therefore,  almost  happy. 

At  times  I  rose  early,  and  this  happened  quite  often. 
I  slept  in  the  open  on  the  terrace,  and  the  bright,  slanting 
rays  of  the  morning  sun  woke  me.  I  dressed  myself  in  a 
hurry,  took  a  towel  under  my  arms,  and  a  French  novel, 
and  went  to  take  a  bath  in  the  river,  in  the  shade  of  a 
birch  forest,  which  was  but  half  a  verst  from  the  house. 
There  I  lay  down  in  the  gi-ass  in  the  shade  and  read,  now 
and  then  tearing  my  eyes  away  from  the  book,  in  order  to 
glance  at  the  surface  of  the  river  which  was  violet  in  the 
shade,  and  began  to  ripple  in  the  morning  breeze,  at 
the  field  of  yellowing  rye  on  the  opposite  bank,  at  the 
bright  red  light  of  the  morning  rays,  painting  ever  lower 
the  white  trunks  of  the  birches  which,  hiding  one  behind 
the  other,  passed  away  from  me  into  the  distance  of  the 
thick  forest,  and  I  enjoyed  the  consciousness  of  just  such 
a  fresh,  young  power  of  life  as  Nature  was  breathing  al] 
around  me.  Wlien  there  were  early  gray  cloudlets  in  the 
sky,  and  I  felt  chilled  after  my  bath,  I  frequently  walked 
across  fields  and  through  woods,  regardless  of  roads,  and 
with  enjoyment  wet  my  feet  through  my  boots  in  the 
fresh  dew.  At  that  time  I  had  vivid  dreams  about 
the  heroes  of  my  latest  novel,  and  I  imagined  myself  now 

392 


YOUTH  393 

a  general,  now  a  minister,  now  an  extraordinary  strong 
man,  now  a  passionate  person,  and  with  a  certain  thrill 
continually  locked  about  me,  in  the  hope  of  suddenly 
meeting  her  in  the  clearing  or  behind  a  tree. 

When,  in  these  walks,  I  came  across  peasants  working, 
I,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  the  common  people  did  not  ex- 
ist for  me,  experienced  an  unconscious  strong  trepidation, 
and  tried  not  to  be  seen  by  them.  When  it  grew  warmer, 
and  the  ladies  had  not  yet  come  out  for  tea,  I  walked  into 
the  orchard  or  garden  to  eat  the  fruits  and  vegetables 
which  were  ripe.  This  occupation  afforded  me  one  of  my 
gi'catest  pleasures.  I  would  go  to  the  apple  orchard,  and 
there  lose  myself  in  the  midst  of  a  high  tangle  of  rasp- 
berry bushes.  Above  my  head  was  the  bright,  hot  sky, 
and  around  me  the  pale  gi-een,  prickly  verdure  of  the 
raspberry  bushes,  intermingled  with  rank  weeds.  The 
dark  green  nettles,  with  their  thin  flowering  tops,  towered 
upwards  in  serried  ranks  ;  the  claw-shaped  burdocks,  with 
their  unnaturally  violet  prickly  iiowers,  grew  rankly  above 
the  raspberry  bushes  and  higher  than  my  head,  and  here 
and  there,  together  with  the  nettles,  reached  up  to  the 
spreading,  pale  green  branches  of  the  old  apple-trees,  where, 
far  above,  the  round,  green  apples,  shining  like  ivory  balls, 
were  ripening  against  the  hot  sun.  Below,  a  young  rasp- 
berry bush,  almost  dried  up  and  without  leaves,  winding, 
tended  toward  the  sun ;  the  green,  needle-shaped  gi-ass 
and  the  young  sage,  bursting  through  the  last  year's  dew- 
drenched  leaves,  grew  luxuriantly  in  the  eternal  shade,  as 
if  they  did  not  know  that  the  sun  was  playing  brightly  on 
the  leaves  of  the  apple-tree. 

In  this  thicket  it  was  always  damp,  and  there  was  an 
odour  of  dense,  permanent  shade,  of  cobwebs,  of  rotting 
apples  that  lay  black  on  the  damp  earth,  of  raspberries, 
and,  at  times,  also  of  chermes  which  I  accidentally  swal- 
lowed with  a  raspberry  and  washed  down  by  quickly  eat- 
ing another  berry.     In  moving  ahead  I  frightened  some 


394  YOUTH 

sparrows  that  always  live  in  such  thickets,  and  heard  their 
hasty  twittering  and  the  strokes  of  their  tiny,  swift  wings 
against  the  branches,  and  the  buzzing  of  a  honey  bee  in 
one  spot,  and,  somewhere  on  the  path,  the  steps  of  the 
gardener,  A  kirn  the  fool,  and  his  eternal  mumbling.  I 
thought,  "  No,  neither  he,  nor  any  one  else  in  the  world, 
will  find  me  here,"  —  and  with  both  hands  I  picked  right 
and  left  the  juicy  berries  from  the  white  conical  pedicels, 
and  with  avidity  swallowed  one  after  another.  My  legs, 
even  above  my  knees,  were  wet  through  and  through ;  my 
head  was  filled  with  some  terrible  nonsense  (I  mentally 
repeated,  a  thousand  times  in  succession :  "  A-a-and  twe- 
e-enty  a-a-and  se-e-even  ")  ;  my  arms  and  legs  were  stung 
through  my  wet  clothes  by  the  nettles ;  my  head  was 
burnt  by  the  direct  rays  of  the  sun  that  penetrated 
through  the  thicket ;  I  had  long  satisfied  my  hunger,  and 
still  I  remained  in  the  thicket,  looking  around,  listening, 
meditating,  and  mechanically  picking  and  swallowing 
some  choice  berry. 

At  about  eleven  o'clock  I  generally  vrent  to  the  draw- 
ing-room, usually  after  tea,  when  the  ladies  were  sitting  at 
their  work.  Near  the  first  window,  shaded  from  the  sun 
by  its  unbleached  canvas  blind,  through  the  rents  of 
which  the  glaring  sun  cast  such  shining  fiery  circles  on 
everything  it  struck  that  it  was  painful  to  look  at  them, 
stood  an  embroidery-frame,  over  the  white  linen  of  which 
leisurely  walked  some  flies.  Mimi  sat  at  the  frame,  con- 
tinually shrugging  her  head  in  anger,  and  moving  from 
place  to  place,  to  escape  the  sun  which,  suddenly  bursting 
through,  cast  a  fiery  strip  now  here,  now  there,  upon  her 
hand  or  face.  Through  the  other  three  windows  fell 
bright,  perfect  parallelograms,  encased  in  the  shadow  of 
the  window-frames ;  on  the  unpainted  floor  of  the  room, 
Milka,  true  to  her  (jld  habit,  lay  on  one  of  these  parallel- 
ograms and,  pricking  her  ears,  watched  the  flies  that 
walked  over  it.     Katenka  was  knitting  or  reading,  while 


YOUTH  395 

seated  on  the  sofa,  and  impatiently  warded  off  the  flies 
with  her  white  hands,  which  appeared  translucent  in  the 
sun,  or,  frowning,  shook  her  head  in  order  to  drive  out  a 
fly  that  had  lost  itself  in  her  thick  golden  hair.  Lyii- 
bochka  paced  the  room,  with  her  hands  behind  her  back, 
waiting  for  us  all  to  go  to  the  garden,  or  played  on  the 
piano  a  piece,  every  note  of  which  had  long  been  faraihar 
to  me.  I  seated  myself  somewhere,  listening  to  her  music 
or  to  the  reading,  and  waited  for  a  chance  to  sit  down  at 
the  piano  myself. 

After  dinner  I  sometimes  honoured  the  girls  with  my 
presence  in  their  horseback  rides  (to  walk  I  regarded  as 
incompatible  with  my  years  and  position  in  the  world). 
Our  outings  —  when  I  took  them  to  unusual  places  and 
ravines  —  were  very  pleasant.  At  times  accidents  hap- 
pened to  us,  when  I  showed  myself  a  brave  fellow,  and  the 
ladies  praised  my  riding  and  my  daring,  and  considered 
me  their  protector.  In  the  evening  we  drank  tea  in  the 
shady  veranda,  and,  if  there  were  no  guests,  I  took  a  walk 
with  papa  to  inspect  the  estate,  and  then  lay  down  in  my 
old  place,  the  large  armchair,  and,  hstening  to  Katenka's 
or  Lyiibochka's  music,  read  a  book  and  at  the  same  time 
mused  as  of  old. 

At  times,  when  T  was  left  alone  in  the  drawing-room, 
while  Lyubochka  was  playing  some  ancient  piece  of  music, 
I  involuntarily  put  down  my  book,  and  gazed  through 
the  open  door  of  the  balcony,  at  the  curly  pendent 
branches  of  the  tall  birches,  upon  which  the  evening 
shadows  were  falling,  and  at  the  clear  sky,  on  which, 
upon  looking  fixedly  at  it,  there  seemed  to  appear  and 
disappear  a  dusty,  yellowish  spot ;  and  I  listened  to  the 
music  in  the  parlour,  the  creak  of  the  gate,  the  voices  of 
the  peasant  women,  and  the  returning  herds  in  the 
village,  —  and  I  suddenly  thought  of  Natalya  Savishna, 
and  mamma,  and  Karl  Ivanovich,  and  for  a  moment  felt 
sad.     But  my  soul  was  at  that  time  so  full  of  life  and 


396  YOUTH 

hopes,  that  this  reminiscence  only  touched  me  with  its 
pinion,  and  flew  off  again. 

After  supper,  and,  at  times,  after  an  evening  stroll  with 
some  one  through  the  garden,  —  I  was  afraid  to  walk  by 
myself  through  the  dark  avenues,  —  I  went  to  sleep  alone 
on  the  floor  of  the  veranda,  which  afforded  me  great 
pleasure,  in  spite  of  the  millions  of  mosquitoes  that 
devoured  me.  When  there  was  a  full  moon,  I  frequently 
passed  the  whole  night  sitting  on  my  mattress,  gazing  at 
the  light  and  shadows,  listening  to  the  silence  and  to  the 
sounds,  dreaming  about  all  kinds  of  subjects,  especially 
about  the  poetical,  voluptuous  happiness  that  then  seemed 
to  me  to  be  the  greatest  happiness  of  life,  and  repining 
because  until  then  it  had  been  my  fate  only  to  imagine 
it.  When  all  the  people  went  to  their  rooms,  and  the 
lights  of  the  drawing-room  were  transferred  to  the  upper 
chambers,  where  the  feminine  voices  and  the  noise  of 
opening  and  closing  windows  could  be  heard,  I  used  to 
repair  to  the  veranda,  and  walk  to  and  fro  there,  eagerly 
listening  to  all  the  sounds  of  the  house  falling  asleep.  As 
long  as  there  was  the  least,  causeless  hope  for  even  an 
imperfect  happiness  of  the  kind  I  was  dreaming  of,  I  was 
not  able  calmly  to  construe  the  imaginary  happiness. 

At  every  sound  of  bare  feet,  of  coughing,  sighing,  slam- 
ming a  window,  rustle  of  dresses,  I  jumped  up  from  my 
bed,  stealthily  listened  and  watched,  and  for  no  apparent 
cause  became  agitated.  But  now  the  lights  went  out  in 
the  upper  windows ;  the  sounds  of  steps  and  talking  were 
exchanged  for  the  sound  of  snoring  ;  the  watchman  began 
to  strike  the  board  in  the  night  fashion ;  the  garden  grew 
both  brighter  and  more  gloomy,  when  the  streaks  of  red 
light  disappeared  from  the  windows ;  the  last  light  passed 
from  the  buffet-room  to  the  antechamber,  throwing  a 
bright  streak  over  the  dewy  garden,  and  I  saw  through 
the  window  the  stooping  figure  of  Fdka,  who,  in  his  jacket, 
and  with  a  candle  in  his  hand,  was  going  to  his  bed. 


YOUTH  397 

I  often  found  a  great,  agitating  pleasure  in  stealing  over 
the  damp  grass  in  the  black  shadow  of  the  house  to  the 
window  of  the  antechamber,  in  order  to  listen  breathlessly 
to  the  snoring  of  the  boy,  to  the  moans  of  Foka,  who  did 
not  suspect  that  anybody  was  listening  to  him,  and  to 
the  sound  of  his  feeble  voice,  as  he  was  saying  his  prayers. 
At  last  his  candle,  too,  was  blown  out ;  the  window  was 
slammed  to  ;  I  was  left  all  alone,  and  timidly  looking  about 
me,  hoping  to  see  a  white  woman  somewhere  in  the  flower- 
garden  or  near  my  bed,  I  ran  at  full  speed  up  to  the 
veranda.  Then  I  lay  down  on  my  bed,  facing  the  garden, 
and,  protecting  myself  as  much  as  possible  against  mos- 
quitoes and  bats,  looked  into  the  garden,  listened  to  the 
sounds  of  the  night,  and 'dreamt  of  love  and  happiness. 

Then,  everything  came  to  have  a  new  meaning  for  me : 
the  sight  of  the  ancient  birches,  which,  on  one  side 
gHstened  in  the  moonlit  sky  with  their  curly  branches, 
and,  on  the  other,  gloomily  shrouded  the  bushes  and  the 
road  with  their  dark  shadows  ;  and  the  quiet,  rich  sheen 
of  the  pond,  evenly  growing,  like  sound ;  and  the  moonlit 
glitter  of  the  dewdrops  on  the  flowers  in  front  of  the 
veranda,  casting  their  graceful  shadows  across  the  gray 
flower  box :  and  the  sound  of  the  quail  beyond  the  pond ; 
and  the  voice  of  a  man  on  the  highway ;  and  the  quiet, 
scarcely  audible  creaking  of  two  old  birches  grating  against 
each  other ;  and  the  buzzing  of  a  mosquito  above  my  ear, 
under  the  coverlet ;  and  the  fall  of  an  apple,  caught  in 
the  branches,  upon  the  dry  leaves ;  and  the  leaping  of  the 
frogs  that  now  and  then  came  up  to  the  steps  of  the 
terrace,  and  mysteriously  glistened  in  the  moon  with  their 
greenish  backs,  —  all  that  had  a  new,  strange  meaning 
for  me,  —  a  meaning  of  some  extraordinary  beauty  and 
unfinished  happiness.  And  then  she  appeared  with  her 
dark  black  braid,  and  swelling  bosom,  always  sad  and  beau- 
tiful, with  bared  arms,  with  voluptuous  embraces.  She 
loved  me,  and  1  sacrified  all  my  life  for  one  minute  of  her 


398  YOUTH 

love.  And  the  moon  rose  higher  and  higher,  and  stood 
brighter  and  brighter  in  the  heavens,  the  rich  sheen  of 
the  pond,  evenly  growing,  like  sound,  became  more  and 
more  distinct,  the  shadows  became  blacker  and  blacker, 
and  the  hght  ever  more  transparent ;  and  as  I  looked  at 
all  that  and  listened,  something  told  me  that  she,  with 
her  bared  arms  and  passionate  embraces,  was  very  far 
from  being  all  the  happiness  in  the  world,  that  the  love 
for  her  was  very  far  from  being  all  the  bliss;  and  the 
more  I  looked  at  the  full  moon  up  on  high,  the  higher  did 
true  beauty  and  goodness  appear  to  me,  and  purer  and 
nearer  to  Him,  the  source  of  all  that  is  beautiful  and 
good,  and  tears  of  an  unsatisfied,  but  stirring  joy  stood  in 
my  eyes. 

And  I  was  all  alone,  and  it  seemed  to  me  that  mys- 
terious, majestic  Nature,  the  attractive  bright  disk  of  the 
moon,  which  had  for  some  reason  stopped  in  one  high, 
undefined  place  of  the  pale  blue  sky,  and  yet  stood  every- 
where and,  as  it  were,  filled  all  the  immeasurable  space, 
and  I,  insignificant  worm,  defiled  already  by  all  petty, 
wretched  human  passions,  but  with  all  the  immeasurable, 
mighty  power  of  love,  —  it  seemed  to  me  in  those  minutes 
that  Nature,  and  the  moon,  and  I  were  one  and  the  same. 


XXXIII. 

NEIGHBOUES 

I  WAS  very  much  surprised  when,  on  the  day  of  our 
arrival,  papa  called  our  neighbours,  the  Epifanovs,  excel- 
lent people,  and  still  more  so  when  I  heard  that  he 
called  upon  them.  The  Epifanovs  and  we  had  for  a  long 
time  been  at  law  for  a  certain  tract  of  land.  When  I 
was  a  child  I  used  to  hear  papa  getting  angry  on  account 
of  this  litigation,  scolding  the  Epifanovs,  and  calling  in 
different  people,  in  order  to  defend  himself  against  them, 
as  I  thought.  I  heard  Yakov  calling  them  our  enemies 
and  "  black  people,"  and  I  remember  mamma's  asking 
that  even  the  name  of  these  people  should  not  be  men- 
tioned in  her  house  and  in  her  presence. 

From  these  data  I  formed  in  my  childhood  such  a  firm 
and  clear  idea  that  the  Epifanovs  were  our  enemies,  who 
were  ready  to  cut  the  throats  not  only  of  papa,  but  also 
of  his  son,  if  he  ever  fell  into  their  hands,  and  that 
they  were  in  the  literal  sense  "  black  people,"  that  when 
I  saw,  the  year  mother  died,  Avddtya  Vasilevna  Epifanov, 
la  belle  Flamandc,  talcing  care  of  mother,  I  could  not 
bring  myself  to  believe  that  she  belonged  to  a  family 
of  black  people.  Still,  I  retained  a  very  low  opinion  of 
that  family.  Although  we  frequently  saw  each  other 
during  that  summer,  I  continued  to  be  strangely  preju- 
diced against  them.  In  reality,  these  were  the  Epifanovs : 
their  family  consisted  of  a  mother,  a  fifty-year-old 
widow,  who  was  a  well  preserved  and  happy  old  woman, 

399 


400  YOUTH 

her  beautiful  daughter,  Avddtya  Vasilevna,  and  her 
stutteriug  son,  Peter  Vasilevich,  an  unmarried  ex-heuten- 
ant,  a  man  of  very  serious  character. 

Anna  Dmitrievna  Epifauov  had  Hved  separated  from 
her  husband  for  the  last  twenty  years  of  his  life,  staying 
now  in  St.  Petersburg,  where  she  had  some  relatives,  but 
mostly  in  her  village  of  Mytishchi,  which  was  about 
three  versts  from  us.  They  used  to  tell  such  terrible 
things  about  her  manner  of  life  that  Messalina  was  an 
innocent  child  in  comparison  with  her.  It  was  for  this 
that  mother  had  asked  that  her  name  should  not  be 
mentioned  in  her  house  ;  but,  without  being  at  all  ironical, 
one  could  not  believe  even  one-tenth  of  this  most  mali- 
cious of  all  gossips,  the  gossip  of  country  neighbours. 

When  I  became  acquainted  with  Anna  Dmitrievna, 
uliere  was  nothing  resembling  that  which  was  still  told 
of  her,  though  there  lived  in  her  house  an  office  clerk, 
Mityusha,  a  serf,  who  during  dinner  stood,  pomaded  and 
spruce,  in  a  coat  made  in  the  Circassian  fashion,  behind 
Anna  Dmitrievna's  chair,  and  she  frequently  invited  her 
guests  in  French  to  admire  his  beautiful  eyes  and  mouth. 
It  seems  that  Anna  Dmitrievna  had  entirely  changed 
her  mode  of  life  when,  ten  years  before,  she  had  ordered 
her  dutiful  son  Petrusha  to  leave  the  service  and  come 
home.  Anna  Dmitrievna's  estate  was  small,  —  in  all 
about  one  hundred  souls,  —  and  during  her  gay  life  there 
were  great  expenses,  so  that  ten  years  before,  her  mort- 
gaged and  reraortgaged  property  was  forfeited  and  to  be 
sold  at  auction  without  fail.  Under  these  extreme  cir- 
cumstances Anna  Dmitrievna  supposed  that  the  receiver- 
ship, the  invoice  of  the  property,  the  arrival  of  the 
officers,  and  similar  annoyances  were  due  not  so  much  to 
the  failure  in  paying  the  interest  as  to  the  fact  that  she 
was  a  woman ;  so  she  wrote  to  her  son  that  he  should 
come  and  save  his  mother  in  this  predicament.  Although 
everything   in   his   service    went   so   well   that    he   soon 


I 


KEIGHBOURS  401 

expected  to  earn  his  own  bread,  he  threw  up  everything, 
asked  for  his  discharge,  and,  hke  a  dutiful  son  who 
regarded  it  as  his  first  duty  to  comfort  his  own  mother 
(as  he  very  frankly  wrote  to  her),  came  down  to  the 
estate. 

Peter  Vasilevich  was,  in  spite  of  his  homely  face, 
gawkiness,  and  stuttering,  a  man  of  exceedingly  firm 
character  and  unusually  practical  mind.  By  petty  loans, 
investments,  prayers,  and  promises  he  managed  to  keep 
the  estate.  Having  become  a  landed  proprietor,  Peter 
A^asilevich  donned  his  father's  wadded  coat,  which  had 
been  kept  in  the  storeroom,  did  away  with  the  carriages 
and  horses,  taught  the  guests  not  to  visit  Mytislichi,  and 
fixed  the  ditches,  increased  the  ploughed  area,  diminished 
the  land  of  the  peasants,  cut  down  the  timber  with  his 
own  tuen  and  sold  it  advantageously,  and  improved 
affairs.  Peter  Vasilevicli  vowed,  and  he  kept  his  word,  not 
to  wear  anything  but  his  father's  wadded  coat,  and  a 
sail-clotli  ulster  which  he  had  made  for  himself,  nor  to 
travel  otherwise  than  in  a  cart  with  peasant  horses,  until 
all  the  debts  should  be  paid.  He  endeavoured  to  extend 
this  stoical  manner  of  life  to  his  whole  family,  so  far  as 
his  servile  respect  for  his  mother,  which  he  considered  his 
duty,  permitted  him  to.  In  the  drawing-room  he  stutter- 
ingly  worshipped  his  mother,  fulfilled  all  her  wishes,  and 
scolded  the  servants  if  tliey  did  not  do  what  she  had 
commanded ;  but  in  his  cabinet  and  in  the  office  he  was 
very  exacting,  if  a  duck  had  been  taken  to  the  table  with- 
out his  permission,  or  a  peasant  had  been  sent  by  order 
of  Anna  Dmitrievna  to  ask  about  a  neighbour's  health, 
or  peasant  girls  were  told  to  go  to  the  woods  to  pick 
berries,  when  tliey  ought  to  have  been  in  the  garden, 
weeding. 

Four  years  later  all  the  debts  were  paid,  and  Peter 
Vasilevich,  who  had  gone  to  St.  Petersburg,  returned  from 
there  in  a  new  suit  and  in  a  tarantas.     In  spite  of  this 


402  YOUTH 

tlourishing  state  of  affairs,  he  kept  the  same  stoical  in- 
cliuatioos,  of  which  he  seemed  gloomily  to  boast  before 
his  own  people  and  before  strangers,  and  he  used  to  say, 
stammering,  •'  He  who  is  anxious  to  see  me  will  be  glad  to 
see  me  in  a  sheepskin,  and  will  eat  my  cabbage  soup  and 
buckwheat  porridge.  I  eat  them,"  he  added.  In  every 
word  and  movement  of  his  was  expressed  pride,  Vv'hich 
was  based  on  the  conviction  that  he  had  sacrificed  him- 
self for  his  mother  and  had  saved  the  estate,  and  a  con- 
tempt for  others  if  they  had  not  done  something  similar. 

The  mother  and  the  daughter  were  of  entirely  different 
cliaracter,  and  in  many  things  dissimilar  to  each  other. 
The  mother  was  one  of  the  most  agreeable  women  in 
society,  always  equally  kindly  and  gay.  Everything 
pleasing  and  joyful  gave  her  genuine  happiness.  Even 
the  faculty  of  enjoying  the  sight  of  merrymaking'young 
people,  a  characteristic  which  is  met  with  only  in  the 
case  of  the  kindhest  old  people,  was  highly  developed 
in  her.  Her  daughter,  Avdotya  Vasilevna,  was,  on  the 
contrary,  of  a  serious  turn  of  mind,  or  rather  of  that 
indifferently  absent-minded  and  groundlessly  haughty 
character  which  is  so  common  in  unmarried  beauties. 
Wlien  she  tried  to  be  mirthful,  her  merriment  was  of 
a  peculiar  sort :  it  looked  as  though  she  made  fun  of  her- 
self, or  of  the  person  to  whom  she  was  speaking,  or  of 
the  whole  world,  which  she  certainly  did  not  mean  to  do. 
I  often  wondered,  and  asked  myself  what  it  was  she 
intended  to  say  when  she  used  such  phrases  as :  "  Yes, 
I  am  awfully  beautiful ;  why,  of  course,  everybody  loves 
me,"  and  so  forth. 

Anna  Dmitrievna  v/as  always  active  :  she  had  a  passion 
for  arranging  her  house  and  garden,  for  flowers,  canaries, 
and  pretty  trifles.  Her  rooms  and  garden  were  small  and 
simple,  but  everything  was  fixed  so  precisely  and  neatly, 
and  so  bore  that  common  character  of  facile  mirth  which 
is  expressed  in  a  pretty  waltz  or  polka,  that  the  word 


NEIGHBOUES  403 

*'  toy,"  which  was  frequently  used  by  her  guests  to  praise 
things,  exactly  fitted  Anna  Dmitrievna's  garden  and  rooms. 
Anna  Dmitrievna  herself  was  a  toy,  —  small,  thin,  with  a 
fresh  colour  in  her  face,  with  pretty  little  hands,  always 
happy  and  becomingly  dressed.  Only  the  dark  violet 
veins  which  stood  out  too  much  in  relief  upon  her  small 
hands  destroyed  this  ensemble. 

Avdotya  Vasilevna,  on  the  contrary,  hardly  ever  did 
anything,  and  not  only  did  not  care  to  busy  herself  with 
any  trifles  or  flowers,  but  even  cared  very  little  about  her- 
self, and  always  ran  away  to  get  dressed  when  guests 
arrived.  But  when  she  came  back  in  her  fine  clothes  she 
was  uncommonly  beautiful,  with  the  exception  of  a  cold 
and  monotonous  expression  of  the  eyes  and  the  smile 
which  is  to  be  found  in  all  very  beautiful  persons.  Her 
severely  regular  and  comely  face  and  her  stately  figure 
seemed  to  be  saying  all  the  time,  "  If  you  please,  you  may 
look  at  me ! " 

Yet,  in  spite  of  the  lively  character  of  the  mother  and 
the  indifferent,  absent-minded  appearance  of  the  daughter, 
something  told  you  that  the  first  one  had  never  before, 
nor  even  then,  loved  anything,  except  that  which  was 
pretty  and  jolly,  and  that  Avdotya  Vasilevna  was  one  of 
those  natures  who,  when  they  once  fall  in  love,  sacrifice 
all  their  life  to  him  whom  they  love. 


XXXIV. 

!  father's  marriage 

Father  was  forty-eight  years  old  when  he  married  for 
the  second  time.  His  wife  was  Avdotya  Vasilevna 
Epifanov. 

Having  arrived  at  the  estate  in  the  spring,  all  alone 
with  the  girls,  papa,  I  imagine,  was  in  that  agitated. 
happy,  and  communicative  frame  of  mind  which  generally 
comes  over  gamblers  who  stop  playing  after  some  great 
winnings.  He  felt  that  he  had  much  unexpended  happi- 
ness left,  which  he  could  make  use  of  for  successes  in  life 
in  general,  if  he  no  longer  wished  to  utilize  it  in  cards. 
Besides,  it  was  spring,  he  unexpectedly  had  a  large  sum 
of  money,  he  was  alone,  and  suffered  ennui.  When  he 
talked  to  Yakov  about  affairs  and  recalled  the  endless  liti- 
gation with  the  Epifanovs,  and  fair  Avdotya  Vasilevna, 
whom  he  had  not  seen  for  a  long  time,  I  imagine  his  hav- 
ing said  to  Yakov :  "  Do  you  know,  Yakov  Kharlampych, 
rather  than  bother  much  longer  about  this  litigation,  I 
have  a  mind  to  let  them  have  that  accursed  piece  of  land. 
Well,  what  do  you  think  of  it  ? " 

I  imagine  how  Yakov's  fingers  twitched  negatively 
behind  his  back  at  such  a  question,  and  how  he  proved 
that "  all  the  same,  our  cause  is  just,  Peter  Aleksandrovich." 

But  papa  ordered  his  carriage  out,  donned  his  fashionable 
olive  wadded  coat,  combed  what  was  left  of  his  hair, 
sprinkled  some  perfume  on  his  handkerchief,  and  in  the 
happiest  frame  of  mind,  produced  by  his  conviction  that 

404 


FATIIER^S    MARRIAGE  405 

he  was  acting  like  a  great  geutlemau,  but  especially  by 
the  hope  that  he  would  see  a  beautiful  woman,  drove  over 
to  his  neighbour's. 

All  I  know  is  that  papa  did  not  upon  his  first  visit  find 
Peter  A^asilevich  at  home,  for  he  was  in  the  field,  but 
passed  an  hour  with  the  ladies.  I  imagine  how  profuse 
he  was  in  civilities,  how  he  charmed  them,  tapping  his 
soft  boot,  lisping,  and  casting  tender  glances.  I  imagine, 
too,  how  the  gay  old  woman  suddenly  took  a  hking  for 
him,  and  how  her  fair,  cold  daughter  suddenly  became 
enlivened. 

When  a  servant-girl  came  running  out  of  breath  to 
announce  that  old  Irt^nev  himself  was  calling  at  the 
house,  I  imagine  how  Peter  Vasilevich  answered,  angrily, 
"  What  of  it,  if  he  is  ? "  and  how  he  in  consequence  thereof 
went  home  as  slowly  as  possible ;  how,  upon  arriving  in 
his  cabinet,  he  purposely  put  on  the  dirtiest  overcoat  and 
sent  word  to  the  cook  not  to  dare  add  anything  to  the 
dinner,  even  if  the  ladies  did  command  him  to. 

Later  I  frequently  saw  papa  with  Epifanov,  therefore 
I  can  vividly  represent  to  myself  that  first  meeting.  I 
imagine  how,  in  spite  of  papa's  proposition  to  settle  the 
htigation  by  arbitration,  Peter  Vasilevich  was  sullen  and 
angry,  because  he  had  sacrificed  his  career  for  his  mother, 
while  papa  had  done  nothing  of  the  kind ;  how  nothing 
surprised  him  :  and  how  papa,  disregarding  his  sullenness, 
was  playful  and  merry,  and  treated  him  like  a  wonderful 
joker,  which  partly  offended  Peter  Vasilevich,  and  partly 
made  him  surrender  in  spite  of  himself.  Papa,  with  his 
tendency  to  turn  everything  into  a  joke,  called  Peter  Vasi- 
levich colonel,  and  although  Epifanov  once  in  my  presence 
remarked,  stuttering  worse  than  ever  and  blushing  from 
annoyance,  that  he  was  not  a  colonel,  but  a  lieutenant, 
papa  called  him  colonel  again  five  minutes  later. 

Lyiibochka  told  me  that,  before  our  arrival  in  the 
country,  they  had  met  the  Epifauovs  daily,  and  had  very 


406  YOUTH 

pleasant  times  with  them.  Papa,  with  his  customary 
cleverness  in  arranging  things  originally,  entertainingly, 
and  at  the  same  time  simply  and  elegantly,  gave  now 
hunting  parties,  now  angling  parties,  now  firework  dis- 
plays, at  which  the  Epifanovs  were  present.  "  And  it 
would  have  been  even  more  enjoyable  if  it  were  not  for 
that  intolerable  Peter  Vasilevich,  who  was  sullen,  and  stut- 
tered, and  spoiled  everything,"  said  Lyiibochka. 

Since  our  arrival,  the  Epifanovs  had  called  but  twice, 
and  once  we  went  to  see  them.  After  St.  Peter's  Day, 
father's  name-day,  when  they  and  a  large  number  of  guests 
called,  our  relations  with  the  Epifanovs  for  some  reason 
or  other  were  completely  stopped,  and  only  papa  con- 
tinued to  visit  them. 

This  is  what  I  noticed  in  the  short  time  in  which  I  saw 
papa  together  with  Dunichka,  as  her  mother  called  her. 
Papa  was  continually  in  that  happy  frame  of  mind  by 
which  I  was  struck  on  the  day  of  our  arrival.  He  was  so 
merry,  young,  full  of  life,  and  happy,  that  the  beams  of 
tliat  happiness  extended  to  all  those  who  surrounded  him 
and  involuntarily  communicated  the  same  disposition  to 
them.  He  never  stirred  a  step  from  Avdotya  Vasilevna 
when  she  was  in  the  room,  continually  paid  her  such 
sweet  compliments  that  I  was  ashamed  for  him,  or,  look- 
ing at  her  in  silence,  jerked  his  shoulder  in  an  impassioned 
and  self-satisfied  manner,  and  coughed,  or,  smiling,  at  times 
spoke  to  her  in  a  whisper ;  and  he  did  all  this  with  an 
expression  which  said,  "  I  am  just  jesting,"  which  was 
characteristic  of  him  in  the  most  serious  affairs. 

Avdotya  Vasilevna  seemed  to  have  appropriated  from 
papa  the  expression  of  happiness  which  almost  uninter- 
ruptedly shone  in  her  large  blue  eyes,  except  in  those 
moments  when  she  was  seized  by  fits  of  bashfulness,  so 
that  I,  who  knew  that  feeling  well,  felt  sorry  and  pained 
for  her.  At  such  moments  she  apparently  was  afraid  of 
every  glance  and  motion,  thinking  that  everybody  looked 


I 


father's  marriage  407 

at  her,  thought  of  her  alone,  aud  found  everj-thing  about 
her  wrong.  She  looked  timidly  at  every  one,  the  colour 
of  her  cheeks  kept  changing,  and  she  began  to  speak 
loudly  aud  buldly,  mostly  silly  things,  and  she  felt  that 
papa  and  everybody  heard  them,  and  blushed  even  more. 
But  papa  did  not  notice  her  insipidities  under  these  cir- 
cumstances, and  continued  to  watch  her  with  the  same 
impassioned,  mirthful  ecstasy,  coughing  now  and  then.  I 
noticed  that,  although  Avdotya  Vasilevna  was  taken  by 
tits  of  bashfuluess  without  any  cause  whatsoever,  these 
sometimes  followed  soon  after  papa's  mentioning  some 
young  and  beautiful  woman.  Her  frequent  changes  from 
peusiveness  to  that  kind  of  strange,  uneasy  merriment  of 
which  I  spoke  before,  the  repetition  of  papa's  favourite 
words  aud  turns  of  speech,  the  continuation  with  others 
of  conversations  which  were  begun  with  papa,  —  all  that 
would  have  explained  to  me  papa's  relations  with  Avdotya 
Vasilevna,  if  the  dramatis  persona  had  been  another  than 
papa,  and  I  a  httle  older ;  but  at  that  time  I  did  not  sus- 
pect anything,  even  when  papa  was  very  much  put  out  by 
a  letter  which  he  had  received  from  Peter  Vasilevich,  aud 
stopped  calling  upon  them  until  the  end  of  August. 

Toward  the  end  of  August  he  again  started  to  visit  his 
neighbours,  and  on  the  day  preceding  our  (Volodya's  and 
mine)  departure  for  Moscow,  he  announced  to  us  that  he 
was  about  to  marry  Avdotya  Vasilevna  Epifanov. 


XXXV. 

HOW    WE   RECEIVED    THE    NEWS 

On  the  day  preceding  that  official  announcement,  every- 
body in  the  house  knew  and  judged  variously  of  this 
affair.  Mimi  did  not  leave  her  room  all  day,  and  wept. 
Katenka  sat  with  her  and  came  out  only  to  dinner,  with  an 
offended  expression  on  her  face,  which  she  obviously  had 
adopted  from  her  mother ;  Lyiibochka,  on  the  contrary, 
was  very  merry,  and  said  at  dinner  that  she  knew  an 
excellent  secret,  but  that  she  would  not  tell  it  to  anybody. 

"  There  is  nothing  excellent  in  your  secret,"  replied 
Volodya,  who  did  not  share  her  pleasure.  "  If  you  were 
able  to  think  seriously  about  matters,  you  would  under- 
stand that  this  is,  on  the  contrary,  very  bad." 

Lyiibochka  looked  fixedly  at  him  in  amazement,  and 
grew  silent. 

After  dinner  Volodya  wanted  to  take  my  hand,  but, 
becoming  frightened,  no  doubt,  lest  it  should  be  considered 
a  tenderness,  only  touched  my  elbow,  and  beckoned  to  me 
to  come  to  the  parlour. 

"  Do  you  know  the  secret  of  which  Lyiibochka  was 
speaking  ? "  he  said  to  me  when  he  was  sure  we  were 
alonCo 

We  rarely  spoke  without  witnesses,  or  at  all  seriously 
about  anything,  so  that  when  this  happened  we  both  felt 
ill  at  ease,  and,  as  Volodya  used  to  say,  little  imps  began 
to  jump  up  and  down  in  our  eyes ;  but  this  time  he,  in 
answer  to  the  confusion  which  was  expressed  in  my  face, 

408 


now  WE  RECEIVED  THE  NEWS       409 

continued  to  look  fixedly  and  seriously  at  me,  with  an 
expression  which  said :  "  There  is  nothing  to  get  confused 
about ;  we  are  brothers  after  all,  and  ought  to  consult 
together  about  an  important  family  matter."  I  understood 
him,  and  he  continued  : 

"  Papa  is  about  to  marry  Miss  Epif^nov,  you  know  ? " 

I  nodded,  because  I  had  already  heard  about  it. 

"  It  is  very  unfortunate,"  continued  Volddya. 

«  Why  ? " 

"  Why  ? "  he  answered,  annoyed.  "  It  is  a  great  pleas- 
ure to  have  such  a  stammerer  of  an  uncle  as  the  colonel, 
and  all  that  family.  And  she  herself  just  now  seems 
kind  and  all  that,  but  who  knows  what  she  will  be  later  ? 
To  us,  I  must  say,  it  does  not  make  much  difference,  but 
Lyubochka  must  soon  make  her  d^but  in  society.  With 
such  a  belle-mere  it  is  not  especially  pleasant ;  she  even 
speaks  poor  French,  and  what  manners  can  she  teach 
her  ?  A  poissarde,  and  nothing  else ;  I  admit  she  is 
kind,  but  a  poissarde  all  the  same,"  concluded  Volddya, 
evidently  very  much  satisfied  with  the  appellation  "pois- 
sarde." 

However  strange  it  was  to  hear  Volddya  judging  papa's 
choice  so  deliberately,  I  thought  lie  was  right. 

"  But  why  does  papa  marry  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  That  is  a  mysterious  story,  God  knows.  I  only  know 
that  Peter  Vasilevich  advised  him  to  marry  and  insisted 
upon  it,  and  that  papa  did  not  want  to,  and  then  he  took 
a  fancy,  —  a  kind  of  chivalry  ;  it  is  a  mysterious  story.  I 
have  just  begun  to  understand  father,"  continued  Volddya 
(it  stung  me  to  the  quick  to  hear  him  say  "  father  "  instead 
of  "  papa  ").  "  He  is  a  fine  man,  good  and  kind,  but  so  friv- 
olous and  changeable  —  it  is  remarkable  !  He  cannot  look 
in  cold  blood  at  a  woman.  You  know  yourself,  there  is  not 
a  woman  he  knows  with  whom  he  is  not  in  love.  You 
know,  Minii  too." 

"  You  don't  say  ? " 


410  YOUTH 

"  I  tell  you  I  lately  found  out  he  was  in  love  with 
Mimi  when  she  was  young,  and  he  wrote  her  verses,  and 
there  was  something  between  them."  And  Volodya 
laughed. 

"  Impossible  ! "  I  said  in  wonderment. 

"  But  the  main  thing,"  continued  Volodya,  again  seri- 
ously, and  suddenly  speaking  in  French,  "  all  our  relatives 
will  be  just  delighted  with  this  marriage !  And,  no 
doubt,  she  will  have  children." 

I  was  so  impressed  by  Volodya's  common  sense  and 
foresight,  that  I  did  not  know  what  to  reply. 

Just  then  Lyubochka  stepped  up  to  us. 

"  So  you  know  ?  "  she  asked,  with  a  happy  face. 

"Yes,"  said  Volodya,  "only  I  wonder,  Lyubochka, — 
you  are  not  a  baby  in  swaddling-clothes  :  what  joy  can  it 
be  for  you  that  papa  is  to  marry  a  slut  ? " 

Lyubochka  suddenly  looked  serious,  and  fell  to  thinking. 

"  Volodya,  why  slut  ?  How  dare  you  speak  thus  of 
Avddtya  Vasilevna  ?  If  papa  marries  her,  she  cannot 
be  a  slut." 

"  Well,  not  a  slut ;  I  was  just  saying  that,  still  —  " 

"Don't  say  'still,'"  Lyubochka  interrupted  him,  ex- 
citedly. "  I  did  not  say  thab  the  young  lady  with  whom 
you  were  in  love  was  a  slut.  How  can  you  speak  thus 
of  papa  and  of  an  excellent  woman  ?  Though  you  are 
the  eldest  brother,  you  must  not  talk  this  way  to  me." 

"  But  why  may  one  not  discuss  —  " 

"  You  dare  not  discuss,"  Lyubochka  again  interrupted 
him.  "  You  dare  not  discuss  such  a  father  as  ours. 
Mimi  may,  but  not  you,  our  elder  brother." 

"  No,  you  do  not  understand  anything  yet,"  said 
Volodya,  contemptuously.  "  Well,  is  it  good  that  a 
Dunichka  Epifanov  should  take  the  place  of  your  deceased 
mamma  ? " 

Lyubochka  grew  silent  for  a  moment,  and  suddenly 
tears  appeared  in  her  eyes. 


HOW    WE    RECEIVED    THE    NEWS  411 

"  I  knew  that  you  were  haughty,  but  I  did  not  think 
you  would  be  quite  so  bad,"  she  said,  and  went  away 
from  us. 

"  Into  the  roll,"  said  Volodya,  with  a  serio-comic  face 
and  dull  eyes.  "  Go  and  discuss  with  them,"  he  con- 
tinued, as  if  in  self-reproach  for  having  forgotten  himself 
so  far  as  to  condescend  to  talk  to  Lyubochka. 

The  next  day  the  weather  was  bad,  and  neither  papa 
nor  the  ladies  were  down  to  tea,  when  I  walked  into  the 
drawing-room.  In  the  night  there  had  been  a  cohl 
autumn  drizzle;  over  the  sky  scudded  the  remainders  ol' 
the  cloud  wdiich  had  been  exhausted  in  the  night,  and 
the  sun,  which  stood  quite  high  in  the  heavens,  glim- 
mered faintly  through  it.  It  w^as  windy,  damp,  and 
chilly.  The  door  into  the  garden  was  open  ;  on  the  floor 
of  the  terrace,  black  with  the  dampness,  were  drying  up 
some  puddles  of  the  night  rain.  The  open  door,  driven 
by  the  wind,  tugged  at  the  iron  hook ;  the  paths  were 
damp  and  dirty ;  the  old  birches  with  their  bared  white 
boughs,  tlie  shrubs  and  the  grass,  the  nettles,  the  currant 
bushes,  and  the  elders,  with  the  pale  sides  of  the  leaves 
turned  outwards,  swayed  in  one  spot  and  seemed  to  be 
anxious  to  tear  themselves  away  from  their  roots ;  from 
the  linden  avenue  came  flying  round  yellow  leaves, 
whirling  and  racing  against  each  other,  and,  when  they 
grew  wet,  lodging  in  the  moist  path  and  in  the  moist, 
dark  green  aftermath  of  ■  the  meadow. 

My  thoughts  were  busy  with  the  coming  marriage  of 
my  father,  considering  it  from  the  same  point  of  view 
as  Volodya.  The  future  of  my  sister,  of  ourselves, 
and  of  father  did  not  present  itself  encouragingly  to  me. 
I  was  provoked  at  the  thought  that  a  strange,  but  espe- 
cially, a  "  young  "  woman,  who  had  no  such  rights,  would 
suddenly  in  many  respects  take  the  place  of  —  whom  ?  — 
a  mere  "  young "  woman  would  take  the  place  of  my 
deceased  mother !     I  was  aggrieved,  and   father  seemed 


412  YOUTH 

ever  more  blameworthy.  Just  then  I  heard  his  and 
Volddya's  voice  in  the  officiatiug-room.  I  did  not  wish 
to  see  father  at  that  moment,  and  walked  away  from 
the  door;  but  Lyiibochka  came  after  me,  and  told  me 
that  father  wanted  to  see  me. 

He  was  standing  in  the  drawing-room,  leaning  with  his 
hand  on  the  piano,  and  impatiently  and  at  the  same 
time  solemnly  looked  in  my  direction.  On  his  face  was 
no  longer  that  expression  of  youth  and  happiness  which 
I  had  observed  heretofore  in  him.  He  looked  sad, 
Volodya  walked  up  and  down  the  room,  with  his  pipe 
in  his  baud.     I  went  up  to  father  and  saluted  him. 

"  Well,  my  friends,"  he  said,  with  firmness,  raising  his 
head,  and  speaking  in  that  very  rapid  tone  with  which 
one  tells  obviously  unpleasant  things  that  are  past  deUb- 
eration,  "  you  know,  I  think,  that  I  am  about  to  marry 
Avdotya  Vasilevna."  He  was  silent  for  a  moment.  "  I 
did  not  wish  to  marry  again  after  your  mamma,  but"  — 
he  stopped  for  a  minute  —  "  but  —  it  is  evidently  my  fate. 
Duuichka  is  a  good  and  dear  girl,  and  not  very  young ; 
I  hope  you  will  love  her,  children,  for  she  already  loves 
you  with  all  her  heart,  she  is  so  good.  It  is  time  for 
you,"  he  said,  turning  to  me  and  Volodya,  and  speaking 
rapidly  that  we  might  not  interrupt  him,  "  it  is  time  for 
you  to  depart,  but  I  shall  stay  here  until  New  Year's, 
and  then  shall  come  to  Moscow,"  —  he  again  hesitated, 
—  "  with  my  wife  and  with  Lyubochka."  It  was  painful 
for  me  to  see  father  feeling  ill  at  ease  and  guilty  before 
us ;  I  walked  up  to  him,  but  Volddya  continued  to  smoke 
and,  lowering  his  head,  paced  the  room. 

"  So  here  is,  my  friends,  what  your  old  father  has 
concocted,"  concluded  papa,  blushing,  coughing,  and  giving 
his  hand  to  me  and  to  Volodya.  There  were  tears  in  his 
eyes,  when  he  said  that,  and  the  hand  which  he  stretched 
out  to  Volodya,  who  was  at  that  time  at  the  other  end  of 
the  room,  trembled  a  little,  I  noticed.     I  was  painfully 


HOW   WE    RECEIVED    THE    NEWS  413 

impressed  by  the  sight  of  that  trembling  hand,  and  the 
odd  thought  came  to  me,  which  affected  me  even  more, 
that  papa  had  served  in  the  year  '12,  and  had,  no 
doubt,  been  a  brave  officer.  I  held  his  large  venous 
hand,  and  kissed  it.  He  pressed  mine  firmly,  and  sud- 
denly, sobbing  through  his  tears,  took  Lyiibochka's  black 
head  into  both  his  hands  and  began  to  kiss  her  eyes. 
Volodya  pretended  that  he  had  dropped  his  pipe  and, 
bending  down,  softly  wiped  his  eyes  with  his  clenched 
hand  and,  wishing  to  remain  unnoticed,  left  the  room. 


XXXVL 

THE   UNIVEKSITY 

The  wedding  was  to  come  off  in  two  weeks ;  but 
lectures  at  the  university  were  to  begin  soon,  and  Volodya 
and  I  left  for  Moscow  in  the  beginning  of  September. 
The  Nekhlyudovs  had  also  come  back  from  the  country, 
Dmitri,  with  whom  I  had  promised  at  parting  to  corre- 
spond, and  with  whom,  of  course,  I  had  not  exchanged 
one  letter,  immediately  came  to  see  me,  and  we  decided 
that  he  should  take  me  on  the  morrow  to  the  university 
to  introduce  me  to  my  lectures. 

It  was  a  bright,  sunny  day. 

The  moment  I  entered  the  auditorium,  I  felt  that  my 
personality  disappeared  in  the  mass  of  young,  happy 
faces  which  billowed  through  the  door  and  in  the 
corridors,  in  the  bright  sunlight  that  penetrated  through 
the  large  windows.  The  consciousness  of  belonging  to 
that  great  society  was  an  agreeable  feeling.  Among  these 
many  faces  I  found  but  few  acquaintances,  and  with 
these  my  acquaintance  was  limited  to  a  shake  of  the 
head  and  the  words,  "  Good  morning,  Irtenev ! "  All 
about  me,  hands  were  pressed,  and  the  crowd  surged,  and 
words  of  friendship,  smiles,  civilities,  and  jokes  were 
showered  on  all  sides.  I  felt  the  common  bond  that 
united  all  that  young  society,  and  sorrowfully  observed 
that  that  bond  had  slighted  me.  But  this  was  only  a 
momentary  impression.     In  consequence  of  this  impres- 

414 


— «««agjfi6>ll    - 


THE    UNIVERSITY  415 

sion,  and  of  the  mortification  generated  by  it,  I  soon 
found,  on  the  contrary,  that  it  was  very  good  indeed  I 
did  not  belong  to  that  society,  that  I  ought  to  have 
a  circle  of  my  own,  of  decent  people,  and  seated  myself 

on  the  third  bench,  where  sat  Count  B ,  Baron  Z , 

Prince  E ,  Ivin  and  other  gentlemen  of  that  class,  of 

whom  I  knew  only  Ivin  and  Count  B .  These  gentle- 
men, however,  looked  at  me  in  such  a  manner  that  I  felt 
I  did  not  quite  belong  to  their  society.  I  began  to  observe 
everything  that  took  place  round  me.  Semluov,  with  his 
gray,  dishevelled  hair  and  white  teeth,  and  in  his  un- 
buttoned coat,  sat  not  far  from  me,  leaning  on  his  elbows, 
and  chewing  at  a  pen.  The  Gymnasiast,  who  had  passed 
the  examinations  as  first,  sat  on  the  first  bench,  his  cheek 
still  tied  up  with  a  black  necktie,  and  played  with  the 
silver  watch-key  on  his  velvet  vest.  Ikduin,  who  had 
managed  to  get  into  the  university,  sat  on  a  desk  in  his 
blue  striped  pantaloons  that  covered  his  whole  boot,  and 
laughed  and  cried  that  he  was  on  Parnassus.  Iliuka, 
who,  to  my  astonishment,  bowed  to  me  not  only  coldly 
but  contemptuously,  as  if  to  remind  me  that  we  were 
all  equals  here,  sat  in  front  of  me  and,  placing  his  lean 
legs  carelessly  on  the  bench  (this,  I  thought,  he  did  on 
my  account),  conversed  with  another  student,  and  now 
and  then  glanced  at  me.  Ivin's  company  near  me  spoke 
French.  These  gentlemen  seemed  uncommonly  stupid 
to  me.  Every  word  which  I  caught  from  their  conver- 
sation seemed  to  me  not  only  insipid,  but  even  incorrect, 
simply  not  French  ("  Ce  n'est  pas  frangais"  I  said  men- 
tally to  myself),  but  the  attitudes,  speeches,  and  acts  of 
Sem^nov,  Ilinka,  and  others  appeared  to  me  ignoble, 
indecent,  not  comme  il  faut. 

I  belonged  to  no  circle,  and  grew  angry,  because  I  felt 
myself  lonely  and  incapable  of  making  friends.  A  stu- 
dent in  front  of  me  was  biting  his  nails  which  were  full 
of  red  slivers,  and  that  so  disgusted  me  that  I  changed 


416  YOUTH 

my  seat  some  distance  away  from  him.  On  that  first 
day,  I  remember,  I  felt  quite  sad. 

When  the  professor  entered,  and  everybody  stirred  and 
grew  silent,  I  remember  how  I  extended  my  satirical 
glance  to  him,  and  how  the  professor  began  his  lecture 
with  an  introductory  sentence  in  which  I  could  see  no 
sense  whatsoever.  I  wanted  the  lecture  to  be  so  clever 
from  the  beginning  to  the  end  that  it  should  be  impossi- 
ble to  throw  anything  out,  or  add  another  word  to  it. 
Being  disappointed  in  this,  I  immediately  set  out  to  make 
eighteen  profiles,  connected  into  a  circle  in  the  shape  of  a 
flower,  beneath  the  title  "  First  Lecture  "  of  the  beautifully 
bound  note-book  which  I  had  brought  with  me ;  I  only 
occasionally  pretended  to  be  writing,  so  that  the  profes- 
sor, who  I  was  sure  was  very  much  interested  in  me, 
might  think  that  I  was  taking  down  notes.  Having 
decided  at  this  lecture  that  it  was  not  necessary,  and  even 
was  stupid,  to  write  out  all  the  professor  said,  I  observed 
this  rule  to  the  end  of  my  course. 

At  the  next  lectures  I  did  not  feel  my  loneliness  so 
much,  for  I  had  become  acquainted  with  a  number  of 
students  whose  hands  I  pressed  and  with  whom  I  talked ; 
but  for  some  reason  or  other  no  close  relations  were  es- 
tablished between  my  companions  and  me,  and  I  was  fre- 
quently given  to  melancholy  aud^  feigning.  I  could  not 
be  on  a  friendly  footing  with  Ivin's  company  and  the 
aristocrats,  as  everybody  called  them,  because,  as  I  now 
remember,  I  was  savage  and  rude  with  them,  and  bowed 
to  them  only  after  they  had  saluted  me,  and  they  evi- 
dently had  little  need  of  my  acquaintance.  With  the 
t  majority,  however,  this  originated  from  an  entirely  differ- 
ent cause.  The  moment  I  felt  that  a  fellow  student  was 
taking  kindly  to  me,  I  gave  him  to  understand  that  I 
dined  with  Prince  Ivan  Iv^novich,  and  that  I  had  a 
vehicle  of  my  own.  1  said  all  that  in  order  to  show 
myself  from  my  most  advantageous  side,  and    that  my 


I 


THE    UNIVERSITY  417 

companion  should  like  me  better  still ;  but  nearly  every 
time,  as  soon  as  I  had  informed  my  companion  of  my 
relationship  with  Prince  Ivan  Ivanovich  and  of  my  vehi- 
cle, he  suddenly,  to  my  amazement,  became  haughty  and 
cold  to  me. 

We  had  a  stipendiary  student,  Operov,  a  modest,  ex- 
tremely talented,  and  industrious  young  man,  who  always 
gave  his  stiff  hand  like  a  board,  without  bending*  his 
fingers,  and  making  no  motion  with  it,  so  that  his  jesting 
fellow  students  gave  him  their  hands  in  the  same  man- 
ner, and  called  that  kind  of  a  hand-shake  the  "board 
handshake."  I  nearly  always  sat  down  by  his  side,  and 
frequently  conversed  with  him.  I  liked  Operov  more 
especially  for  his  free  opinions  about  the  professors.  He 
very  clearly  and  distinctly  defined  the  merits  and  faults 
of  each  professor's  instruction,  and  at  times  even  made 
fun  of  them,  all  of  which  behig  uttered  with  his  soft  voice 
issuing  from  his  tiny  mouth  affected  me  very  strangely 
and  powerfully.  In  spite  of  this,  he  continued  to  take 
down  all  the  lectures  without  exception,  writing  them  out 
carefully  in  a  fine  hand.  We  were  becoming  friendly,  and 
decided  to  prepare  our  lectures  together,  and  his  small, 
gray,  near-sighted  eyes  were  beginning  to  turn  to  me  with 
an  expression  of  pleasure,  whenever  I  came  to  take  my 
seat  near  him.  But  I  found  it  necessary,  in  talking  with 
him,  to  let  him  know  that  my  mother,  dying,  had  asked 
father  not  to  send  us  to  a  public  school,  and  that  all  the 
stipendiary  students  might  be  very  wise  men,  but  not 
the  people  for  me  —  not  the  right  class  of  people.  "  Ce  ne 
sont  pas  des  gens  comme  il  fend"  I  said,  stammering  and 
feeling  that  I  was  blushing.  Operov  said  nothing  to  me, 
but  at  the  next  lectures  did  not  salute  me  first,  did  not 
give  me  his  "  board,"  did  not  converse,  and  when  I  took 
my  seat,  bent  his  head  sidewise,  a  finger's  length  away 
from  his  note-books,  and  pretended  to  be  looking  into 
them.     I  wondered  at  Operov's  causeless  coolness.     As  a 


418  YOUTH 

jeune  homme  de  honne  maison  I  considered  it  improper  to 
seek  the  favour  of  a  stipendiary  student  Operov,  and  left 
him  alone,  though,  I  confess,  his  coolness  mortified  me. 
Once  I  arrived  before  him,  and  as  it  happened  to  he 
a  lecture  of  a  favourite  professor,  which  was  attended  by 
students  who  were  not  in  the  habit  of  coming  to  their 
lectures  regularly,^  all  the  places  were  occupied  ;  so  I 
seated  myself  in  Operov's  seat,  put  my  note-books  on  his 
desk,  and  walked  out.  When  I  returned  to  the  lecture- 
room,  I  noticed  that  my  books  had  been  removed  to  a 
back  desk,  and  that  Operov  was  in  my  seat.  I  remarked 
to  him  that  I  liad  placed  my  books  there. 

"  I  don't  know,"  he  answered,  with  sudden  irritation 
and  without  looking  at  me. 

"  1  am  telling  you  that  I  placed  my  books  there,"  I 
said,  purposely  in  anger,  thinking  that  I  might  frighten 
him  with  my  boldness.  "  Everybody  saw  it,"  I  added, 
looking  round  at  the  students,  but  though  many  gazed 
curiously  at  me,  not  one  of  them  said  anything. 

"  There  are  no  reserved  seats  here,  and  he  who  comes 
first  takes  one,"  said  Operov,  angrily  straightening  him- 
self in  his  seat  and  for  a  moment  looking  at  me  with  a 
provoked  countenance. 

"  That  means  that  you  are  a  boor,"  I  said. 

I  thought  that  Operov  mumbled  something,  and  I  think 
it  was,  "  And  you  are  a  silly  boy  ! "  but  I  did  not  hear  it 
at  all.  And  what  use  would  it  have  been  for  me  to  have 
heard  it  ?  Just  to  call  each  other  names,  like  manants  ? 
(I  was  very  fond  of  that  word  "  manant"  and  it  served 
me  as  an  answer  and  solution  to  many  puzzling  relations.) 
I  might  have  said  something  else  to  him,  but  just  then 
the  door  slammed,  and  the  professor  in  his  blue  uniform, 
shuffling  his  feet,  rapidly  walked  up  to  his  platform. 

And  yet,  before  the  examinations,  when  I  needed  some 
note-books,  Operov,  mindful  of  his  promise,  offered  me 
his,  and  invited  me  to  study  with  him. 


XXXVII 

AFFAIRS     OF     THE     HEART 

At  that  time  I  was  much  occupied  with  affairs  of  the 
heart.  I  was  three  times  iu  love.  Once  I  became  pas- 
sionately enamoured  of  a  very  stout  lady  who  used  to  ride 
in  Freitag's  Manege  ;  every  Tuesday  and  Friday,  when  she 
frequented  it,  I  went  there  to  get  a  glimpse  of  her,  but  I 
was  every  time  so  afraid  that  she  would  see  nie,  and, 
therefore,  stood  so  far  away  from  her  and  ran  away  so 
fast  when  she  was  about  to  pass  by  me,  and  so  rudely 
turned  aside  when  she  looked  in  my  direction,  that  I 
never  got  a  good  look  at  her  face,  and  never  found  out 
whether  she  was  really  pretty  or  not. 

Dubkov,  who  knew  the  lady,  having  discovered  me 
once  in  the  Manege,  where  I  stood  concealed  behind  the 
lackeys  and  the  furs  wliich  they  held,  and  having  learned 
from  Dmitri  of  my  infatuation,  so  frightened  me  with  his 
proposition  to  introduce  me  to  that  Amazon,  that  I  rushed 
headlong  out  of  the  place,  and  at  the  mere  thought  that 
he  told  her  about  me,  never  again  dared  enter  the  Manege, 
not  even  behind  the  lackeys,  for  fear  of  meeting  her. 

Whenever  I  was  in  love  with  strange,  particularly 
married,  women,  I  was  seized  by  fits  of  bashfulness  a 
thousand  times  stronger  than  what  I  experienced  before 
Sonichka.  I  feared  nothing  so  much  in  the  world  as  that 
the  object  of  my  love  should  find  out  about  my  love  and 
even  of  my  existence.  It  appeared  to  me  that  if  she 
should  learn  of  the  feeling  which  I  had  for  her,  it  would 

419 


420  YOUTH 

be  such  au  insult  to  her  that  she  could  never  forgive  me. 
And  indeed,  if  that  Amazon  had  know^n  in  detail  how 
I  watched  her  from  behind  the  lackeys,  and  imagined 
raping  her  and  taking  her  to  the  country,  and  how  I  was 
going  to  live  with  her  there,  and  what  I  was  going  to  do 
with  her,  she  no  doubt  would  have  been  justly  insulted. 
I  could  not  form  a  clear  conception  of  her  knowing  me 
without  knowing  at  once  all  my  thoughts  of  her,  and 
therefore  I  could  not  imagine  there  was  nothing  disgrace- 
ful in  an  acquaintance  with  her. 

Another  time  I  fell  in  love  with  Souichka,  upon  seeing 
her  with  my  sister.  My  second  love  for  her  had  passed 
long  ago,  but  I  became  enamoured  of  her  for  the  third 
time,  when  Lyilbochka  gave  me  a  copy-book  of  verses, 
copied  by  Souichka,  in  which  Lermontov's  "  Demon  "  was 
in  many  gloomy  passages  of  love  underlined  with  red 
ink,  and  marked  with  little  flowers.  I  recalled  that 
Volodya  had  the  year  before  kissed  the  purse  of  his  lady- 
love, and  so  I  tried  to  do  the  same,  and  really,  when  I 
was  one  evening  all  alone  in  my  room  and,  looking  at  a 
little  flower,  began  to  meditate  and  put  it  to  my  Hps,  I 
experienced  a  certain  pleasurable  and  tearful  sensation, 
and  was  again  in  love,  or  supposed  I  was,  for  a  few  days. 

Finally,  for  the  third  time  that  winter  I  was  enam- 
oured of  a  young  lady  with  whom  Volodya  was  in  love, 
and  who  visited  us.  In  that  young  lady,  as  I  now 
remember,  there  was  absolutely  nothing  beautiful,  par- 
ticularly of  that  kind  of  beauty  which  I  admired.  She 
was  the  daughter  of  a  well-known,  clever,  and  learned 
lady  of  Moscow,  and  was  small,  haggard,  with  long  Eng- 
lish locks,  and  a  translucent  profile.  Everybody  said  that 
she  was  even  more  clever  and  learned  than  her  mother, 
but  I  was  entirely  unable  to  judge  of  that,  because  I  felt 
such  a  servile  terror  at  the  thought  of  her  cleverness  and 
learning  that  I  dared  but  once  to  speak  to  her,  v^dth  inde- 
scribable trepidation.     But  the  ecstasy  of  Volodya,  who 


AFFAIKS    OF    THE    HEART  421 

was  never  incommoded  by  the  presence  of  others  in  giv- 
ing vent  to  that  ecstasy,  was  communicated  to  me  with 
such  force  that  I  fell  passionately  in  love  with  the  lady. 
I  did  not  tell  Volodya  of  my  love,  being  convinced  that  it 
would  not  please  him  very  much  to  hear  that  "  two 
brothers  were  in  love  with  the  same  maiden."  The  chief 
pleasure  I  derived  from  this  infatuation  consisted  in  the 
thought  that  our  love  was  so  pure  that,  in  spite  of  the 
fact  that  its  object  was  one  and  the  same  charming 
creature,  we  remained  friends  and  ever  ready  to  make 
sacrifices  for  each  other,  if  the  opportunity  offered  itself. 
However,  Volodya  did  not  quite  share  my  opinion  of  the 
ever  ready  sacrifice,  for  he  was  so  passionately  in  love 
that  he  wanted  to  box  the  ears  of,  and  call  out  to  a  duel 
a  certain  real  diplomat  who,  it  was  said,  was  about  to 
marry  her.  But  it  pleased  me  very  much  to  be  able  to 
sacrifice  my  feeling,  perhaps,  because  it  did  not  cost  me 
much  labour,  having  but  once  held  with  her  a  bombastic 
discourse  about  the  value  of  classical  music, —  and  my 
love,  however  much  I  tried  to  sustain  it,  was  dispersed 
the  following  day. 


XXXVIII. 

SOCIETY 

The  social  pleasures  which  I  had  dreamt  of  taking  up, 
upou  entering  the  university,  in  emulation  of  my  elder 
l)rother,  completely  disenchanted  me  that  winter.  Volo- 
dya  danced  a  great  deal,  and  papa  also  drove  out  to  balls 
with  his  young  wife,  but  I  was  considered  either  too 
young,  or  unfit  for  such  enjoyments,  and  nobody  intro- 
duced me  in  those  houses  where  balls  were  given.  In 
spite  of  my  vow  of  frankness  with  Dmitri,  I  told  nobody, 
not  even  him,  how  anxious  I  was  to  attend  balls,  and 
how  it  mortified  and  angered  me  that  they  forgot  me  and 
apparently  regarded  me  as  a  kind  of  a  philosopher,  so  that 
in  consequence  thereof,  I  tried  to  appear  like  one. 

That  winter  there  was  a  reception  at  the  house  of  Prin- 
cess Koruakov.  She  personally  invited  us  all,  including 
me,  and  I  went  for  the  first  time  to  a  ball.  Volodya 
came  into  my  room  before  we  were  to  start,  and  wanted 
to  see  me  dressed.  This  act  of  his  greatly  surprised  and 
puzzled  me.  It  seemed  to  me  that  the  desire  always  to  be 
well  dressed  was  blameworthy,  and  had  to  be  concealed ; 
but  he,  on  the  contrary,  regarded  this  desire  as  so  natural 
and  necessary  that  he  said  quite  openly  that  he  was  afraid 
I  should  disgrace  myself.  He  ordered  me  to  put  on 
lacquered  boots,  was  horrified  when  I  wanted  to  put  on 
chamois-leather  gloves,  fixed  my  watch  in  a  particular 
manner,  and  took  me  to  Blacksmith  Bridge  to  a  hair- 
dresser. They  curled  my  hair.  Volodya  stood  off  and 
looked  at  me  from  a  distance. 

422 


SOCIETY  423 

"  Now  it  is  all  right,  but  can't  you  really  smooth  down 
those  tufts  of  his  ?  "  he  said,  turning  to  the  hair-dresser. 

But  no  matter  how  much  Monsieur  Charles  smeared 
my  tufts  with  a  sticky  essence,  they  rose  again  when  I 
put  on  my  hat,  and  my  whole  curled  head  looked  worse 
to  me  than  before.  My  only  salvation  lay  in  an  affecta- 
tion of  carelessness.  Only  under  such  conditions  did  my 
exterior  look  like  something. 

Volodya,  it  seems,  was  of  the  same  opinion,  for  he 
asked  me  to  undo  the  curls,  and  when  I  did  so  and  the 
effect  still  was  bad,  he  no  longer  looked  at  me,  and  all 
the  way  to  the  Kornakovs  was  incommunicative  and 
melancholy. 

Volodya  and  I  entered  the  house  of  the  Kornakovs 
boldly ;  but  when  the  princess  invited  me  to  dance,  and  I, 
who  had  come  with  this  one  aim  in  view,  told  her  that 
I  did  not  dance,  I  lost  my  courage  and,  remaining  all 
alone  among  strange  people,  fell  into  my  unconquerable, 
ever  increasing  bashfulness.  I  stood  silently  all  the  even- 
ing in  one  place. 

During  a  waltz  one  of  the  young  princesses  walked  up 
to  me  and  asked  me,  with  the  official  civility  of  her  fam- 
ily, why  I  did  not  dance.  I  remember  how  I  was  put 
out  by  the  question,  and  how,  entirely  against  my  will,  a 
self-satisfied  smile  covered  my  face,  and  I  began  to  tell 
her  in  French,  with  high-flown  turns  and  introductory 
phrases,  such  dreadful  nonsense  that  even  now,  after  tens 
of  years,  I  have  to  blush  when  I  think  of  it.  It  must  be 
that  the  music  so  affected  me,  by  exciting  my  nerves,  and 
drowning,  as  I  supposed,  the  less  intelligible  parts  of  my 
speech.  I  said  something  or  other  about  high  life,  about 
the  emptiness  of  men  and  women,  and  finally  was  so 
completely  lost  in  a  maze  of  words,  that  I  had  to  stop  in 
the  middle  of  a  sentence  which  it  was  utterly  impossible 
to  finish. 

Even  the  thoroughbred  worldly  princess  was  put  out  of 


424  YOUTH 

countenance,  and  reproachfully  looked  at  me.  I  smiled. 
At  this  critical  moment  Volddya,  seeing  that  I  was  speak- 
ing excitedly,  and,  no  doubt,  wishing  to  know  how  I 
explained  away  my  refusal  to  dance,  walked  up  to  us 
with  Dubkdv.  When  he  saw  my  smiling  countenance 
and  the  frightened  expression  of  the  princess,  and  heard 
the  awful  bosh  with  which  I  ended  my  discourse,  he 
blushed  and  turned  away.  The  princess  rose  and  walked 
off.  I  was  smiling,  but  suffered  so  terribly  from  the  con- 
sciousness of  my  stupidity  that  I  was  ready  to  go  through 
the  floor,  and  felt  the  necessity  of  stirring  about  and  say- 
ing something,  in  order  to  change  my  situation  in  some 
manner.  I  went  up  to  Dubkdv  and  asked  him  whether 
he  had  danced  many  dances  with  her.  I  pretended  to  be 
playful  and  merry,  but  in  reality  I  implored  aid  of  that 
very  Dubkdv  whom  I  had  told  to  shut  up  at  the  dinner 
at  Yar's.  Dubkdv  looked  as  though  he  had  not  heard  me 
and  turned  away  in  another  direction.  I  moved  up  to 
Volddya,  and  said  to  him,  with  an  expenditure  of  all  my 
strength,  endeavouring  to  give  a  playful  tone  to  my  voice, 
"  Well,  Volddya,  are  you  tired  ? "  But  Volddya  looked  at 
me  as  much  as  to  say,  "  You  do  not  speak  to  me  that  way 
when  we  are  alone,"  and  silently  walked  away  from  me, 
apparently  afraid  that  I  might  stick  to  him. 

"  My  Lord,  even  my  brother  abandons  me ! "  I  thought. 

I  somehow  did  not  have  sufficient  strength  to  leave.  I 
stood  sullen,  in  one  spot,  all  during  the  evening,  and  only 
when  all  had  congregated  in  the  antechamber,  ready  to 
depart,  and  a  lackey  caught  my  overcoat  on  the  edge  of 
my  hat,  so  that  it  rose,  I  laughed  painfully  through  tears 
and,  without  addressing  anybody  in  particular,  said, 
"  Conwie  c'est  gracieiox  J  " 


XXXIX. 

A   CAKOUSAL 

Although,  under  Dmitri's  influence,  I  did  not  yet 
abandon  myself  to  the  common  student  enjoyments  which 
are  called  "  carousals,"  I  had  occasion  to  be  present  at 
such  an  entertainment  that  winter,  but  I  carried  away 
from  it  a  rather  unpleasant  sensation.  It  happened  like 
this. 

In  the  beginning  of  the  year  Baron  Z ,  a  tall,  blond 

young  man,  with  a  very  solemn  expression  on  his  face, 
invited  us  all,  at  a  lecture,  to  his  house  for  a  sociable 
evening.  When  I  say  all  of  us,  I  mean  all  the  fellow 
students  of  our  course  who  were  more  or  less  cominc  il 
fatit,  and  among  whom,  of  course,  were  neither  Grap,  nor 
Sem^nov,  nor  Operov,  nor  any  of  those  insignificant  gen- 
tlemen. Vol(5dya  smiled  contemptuously  when  he  heard 
that  I  was  going  to  a  carousal  of  the  first  year  students, 
but  I  expected  an  unusual  and  intense  pleasure  from  this 
entirely  unfamiliar  pastime,  and  punctually  at  the  ap- 
pointed time,  at  eight  o'clock,  I  was  at  the  house  of 
Baron  Z . 

Baron  Z ,  in  an  unbuttoned  coat  and  white  waist- 
coat, received  his  guests  in  the  lighted  parlour  and  draw- 
ing-room of  the  small  house  in  which  his  parents  hved, 
who,  on  the  occasion  of  the  celebration,  had  granted  him 
the  use  of  the  reception-rooms.  In  the  corridor  could  be 
seen  the  heads  and  dresses  of  curious  maids,  and  in  the 
buffet-room  flashed  by  the  dress  of  a  lady  whom  I  took 

425 


426  YOUTH 

for  the  baroness.  There  were  some  twenty  guests,  all  of 
them  students  except  Mr.  Frost,  who  had  come  with  Ivin, 
and  one  tall,  red-faced  private  gentleman  who  had  charge 
of  the  celebration,  and  who  was  introduced  to  all  as  a 
relative  of  the  baron,  and  a  former  student  of  the  uni- 
versity of  Dorpat.  The  extremely  bright  illumination 
and  the  usual,  conventional  outfit  of  the  reception- 
rooms  at  first  acted  so  chilhngly  upon  that  youthful  com- 
pany that  all  kept  close  to  the  wall,  except  a  few  bolder 
fellows  and  the  Dorpat  student,  who,  having  unbuttoned 
his  waistcoat,  seemed  to  be  at  the  same  time  in  every 
room,  and  in  every  corner  of  every  room,  and  filled  the 
whole  room  with  his  sonorous,  agreeable,  and  continuous 
tenor  voice.  The  other  students  were  mostly  silent,  or 
modestly  discussed  their  professors,  the  sciences,  exami- 
nations, in  general,  serious  matters.  Everybody  without 
exception  watched  the  door  of  the  buffet-room,  and, 
though  trying  to  conceal  it,  bore  an  expression  which 
said,  "  Well,  it  is  time  to  begin."  I  myself  felt  that  it  was 
time  to  begin,  and  waited  for  the  beginning  with  impatient 

joy- 
After  tea,  which  the  lackeys  served  to  the  guests,  the 

Dorpat  student  asked  Frost,  in  Eussian : 

"  Dost  thou  know  how  to  make  the  punch.  Frost  ?  " 

"  0  ja  ! "  answered  Frost,  moving  his  calves,  but  the 

Dorpat  student  again  said  to  him  in  Eussian : 

"  Then  take  it  into  thine  hands  "  (they  spoke  "  thou  "  to 

each  other,  as  schoolmates  of  the  Dorpat  University),  and 

Frost,  taking  a  few  long  steps  with  his  bent  muscular  legs, 

began  to  pass  from  the  drawing-room  to  the  buffet-room 

and  back  again,  and  soon  there  appeared  on  the  table  a 

large  bowl  with  a  ten-pound  head  of  sugar  in  it,  held  in 

place  by  three  crossed  student  swords.     Baron  Z — —  in 

the  meantime  walked  up  to  all  the  guests  who  had  gathered 

in  the  drawing-room  and  were  looking  at  the  bowl,  and 

with    an  unchangeable  solemn  face  repeated  nearly  the 


A    CAROUSAL  427 

same  thing :  "  Gentlemen,  let  us  drink  in  student  fashion 
the  round  bowl,  '  Bruderschaft^  for  there  is  no  comrade- 
ship in  our  course.  Why  don't  you  unbutton  your  coats, 
or  take  them  oiiC  entirely,  just  as  he  has  done  ? "  And, 
indeed,  the  Dorpat  student,  having  taken  off  his  coat 
and  rolled  up  his  white  shirt-sleeves  above  his  elbows,  and 
firmly .  planted  his  legs,  was  already  burning  the  rum  in 
the  bowl. 

"  Gentlemen,  put  out  the  lights ! "  suddenly  cried  the 
Dorpat  student  as  loud  and  sonorously  as  if  we  all  were 
crying  together.  But  we  looked  in  silence  at  the  bowl 
and  at  the  white  shirt  of  the  Dorpat  student,  and  all  felt 
that  the  solemn  moment  had  arrived. 

"  Ldschen  Sie  die  Lichter  aus,  Frost !  "  again  cried  the 
Dorpat  student,  this  time  in  German,  probably  because  he 
was  quite  excited.  Frost  and  the  rest  of  us  began  to  blow 
out  the  lights.  The  room  grew  dark,  and  only  the  white 
shirt-sleeves  and  hands  that  supported  the  head  of  sugar 
with  the  swords  were  lighted  up  by  the  bluish  flame. 
The  loud  tenor  of  the  Dorpat  student  was  no  longer  the 
only  one,  for  they  were  talking  and  laughing  in  all  the 
corners  of  the  room.  Many  took  off  their  coats  (especially 
those  who  had  fine  linen,  and  very  white  shirts),  and  I 
did  the  same,  and  knew  that  now  it  was  beginning. 
Although  there  was  nothing  merry  as  yet,  I  was  quite 
convinced  that  it  would  be  nice  as  soon  as  we  should 
drink  a  glass  of  the  brewing  drink. 

The  drink  was  prepared.  The  Dorpat  student  poured 
out  the  punch  in  glasses,  spilling  a  great  deal  on  the  table, 
and  called  out :  "  Now,  gentlemen,  come  on  !  "  When  we 
all  had  well-filled  sticky  glasses  in  our  hands,  the  Dorpat 
student  and  Frost  sang  a  German  song,  in  which  the 
exclamation  "  Juchhe  !  "  was  frequently  repeated.  We 
sang  with  them  as  best  we  could,  clinked  our  glasses, 
praised  the  punch,  and,  crossing  hands  with  each  other,  or 
in  simple  fashion,  began  to  drink  the  sweet,  strong  liquid. 


428  YOUTH 

There  was  notliiug  more  to  wait  for,  —  the  carousal  wag 
in  full  swing. 

I  emptied  a  whole  glass;  they  filled  another  for  uie ; 
the  blood  beat  strongly  in  my  temples ;  the  light  looked 
blood-red  to  me  ;  everybody  around  me  laughed  and  cried, 
and  yet  it  not  only  seemed  not  jolly  to  me,  but  I  was  even 
convinced  that  all  of  us  suffered  ennui,  and  that  we  merely 
found  it  necessary  to  pretend  that  it  all  was  very  jolly. 
The  Dorpat  student  was  probably  the  only  one  wlio  did 
not  feign :  he  grew  ever  more  bloodshot  and  ubiquitous, 
tilled  everybody's  empty  glasses,  and  spilled  more  and 
more  on  the  table,  which  finally  grew  all  sticky  and 
sweet. 

I  do  not  remember  everything  that  happened,  or  in 
what  order,  but  I  recall  that  I  was  that  evening  awfully 
fond  of  that  Dorpat  student  and  of  Frost,  learned  by  heart 
the  German  song,  and  kissed  tlieir  sweet  lips ;  I  also 
recollect  that  on  that  same  evening  I  hated  the  Dorpat 
student,  and  wanted  to  bang  him  with  a  chair,  but 
restrained  myself ;  I  recollect  that,  in  addition  to  the  feel- 
ing of  disobedience  of  all  my  limbs,  which  I  had  experi- 
enced at  the  dinner  at  Yar's,  my  head  ached  and  whirled 
in  such  a  terrible  manner  that  I  was  dreadfully  afraid  I 
should  die  right  off;  I  also  recollect  that  we  all  seated 
ourselves  for  some  reason  on  the  floor,  waved  our  hands, 
imitating  the  motion  of  oars,  and  sang  "  Down  our  mother 
Volga,"  and  that  I  thought  all  the  time  that  it  was  not 
necessary  to  do  all  this ;  I  recollect  also  that,  lying  on  the 
floor,  my  legs  caught  in  somebody's,  and  I  fought  with 
him  in  gipsy  fashion  and  sprained  his  neck,  whereat  I 
thought  that  it  would  not  have  happened  if  he  had  not 
been  drunk ;  I  recollect  also  that  we  had  supper,  and 
drank  something  else,  that  I  went  outside  to  cool  off,  that 
my  head  felt  cold,  and  that,  at  parting,  I  noticed  that  it 
was  dreadfully  dark,  that  the  foot-rest  of  the  vehicle  had 
in  the  meg-uwhUe  become  crooked  and  sleek,  and  that  it 


A   CAROUSAL  429 

was  not  possible  to  hold  on  to  Kuzma,  because  he  was 
very  weak  and  flaunted  hke  a  rag ;  but,  above  all,  I  recol- 
lect that  during  that  evening  I  never  stopped  feeling  that 
I  acted  very  foolishly,  pretending  that  it  was  jolly,  that  I 
liked  to  drink  much,  and  that  I  never  thought  of  being 
drunk,  and  I  also  felt  that  the  rest  were  acting  just  as 
foolishly  when  they  pretended  the  same.  1  thought  that 
each  one  in  particular  was  just  as  dissatisfied  as  I,  but 
that  he  supposed  that  lie  alone  experienced  that  unpleasant 
sensation,  and,  consequently,  regarded  it  as  his  duty  to 
pretend  to  be  merry,  in  order  not  to  impair  the  general 
merriment ;  besides,  though  it  may  seem  strange,  I  con- 
sidered it  my  duty  to  pretend,  for  the  reason  alone,  if  for 
no  other,  that  into  that  bowl  had  been  poured  three  bottles 
of  champagne,  at  ten  roubles,  and  ten  bottles  of  rum,  at 
four  roubles,  which  made  in  all  seventy  roubles,  not 
counting  the  supper.  I  was  so  convinced  of  it,  that  next 
day  I  was  exceedingly  surprised  during  the  lecture,  when 
my  companions,  who  had  been  present  at  the  entertain- 
ment of  Baron  Z ,  not  only  were  not  ashamed  of  what 

they  had  done  there,  but  told  of  it  in  such  a  manner  that 
the  other  students  might  hear  it.  They  said  that  the 
carousal  was  fine,  that  the  Dorpat  boys  were  great  at  it, 
and  that  the  twenty  students  had  drunk  forty  bottles  of 
rum,  and  that  many  of  them  were  left  for  dead  under  the 
table.  I  could  not  understand  why  they  should  tell,  and 
moreover  lie,  about  themselves. 


XL. 

MY    FKIENDSHIP   WITH    THE    NEKHLYUDOVS 

That  wiuter  I  frequently  saw  not  only  Dmitri,  who 
was  in  the  habit  of  visiting  us,  but  also  his  whole  family, 
with  whom  I  was  getting  better  acquainted. 

The  Nekhlyiidovs,  mother,  aunt,  and  daughter,  passed 
all  their  evenings  at  home,  and  the  princess  was  fond  of 
having  young  people  come  to  see  them  in  the  evening, 
that  is,  men  who,  she  said,  were  able  to  pass  a  whole 
evening  without  cards  or  dancing.  There  must  have 
been  a  dearth  of  such  men,  because  I  rarely  saw  any  guests 
there,  though  I  called  nearly  every  day.  I  grew  accus- 
tomed to  the  members  of  that  family,  and  to  their  variolis 
dispositions,  formed  a  clear  conception  of  their  mutual 
relations,  got  used  to  the  rooms  and  furniture,  and,  when 
there  were  no  guests,  felt  perfectly  at  ease,  except  when 
I  was  left  alone  with  Varenka.  It  always  seemed  to  me 
that  she  was  not  a  very  pretty  girl,  and  that  she  was 
exceedingly  anxious  that  I  should  fall  in  love  with  her. 
But  this  embarrassment,  too,  soon  began  to  pass  away. 
She  was  so  unconstrained  in  her  manner,  whether  she 
talked  to  me,  to  her  brother,  or  to  Lyubov  Sergy^evna, 
that  I  acquired  the  habit  of  looking  at  her  simply  as  at  a 
person  to  whom  it  was  neither  disgraceful  nor  dangerous 
to  express  the  pleasure  which  her  company  afforded. 
During  all  the  time  of  my  acquaintance  with  her,  she 
appeared  on  certain  days  very  homely,  while  on  others  I 
thought  she  was  not  so  ill-looking,  but  it  never  occurred 
to  me  to  ask  myself  whether  I  was  in  love  with  her,  or 

430 


i 


MY   FKIENDSHIP   WITH    THE   NEKHLYUDOVS      431 

not.  I  had  occasion  to  speak  to  her  directly,  but  more 
often  I  conversed  with  her  by  addressing  Lyubov  Sergy^- 
evna  or  Dmitri,  and  this  latter  method  gave  me  especial 
pleasure.  It  was  a  great  pleasure  for  me  to  speak  in  her 
presence,  to  listen  to  her  singing,  and  in  general  to  know 
that  she  was  in  the  room  while  I  was  there.  I  was  now 
rarely  worried  by  the  thought  what  my  relations  to 
Varenka  would  be  in  the  future,  and  by  the  dreams  of 
self-sacrifice  for  my  friend  if  he  should  fall  in  love  with 
my  sister.  And  if  such  thoughts  and  dreams  did  come 
to  me,  I  felt  myself  sufficiently  contented  in  the  present, 
and  unconsciously  warded  off  the  thoughts  of  the  future. 
In  spite  of  this  closer  acquaintance,  I  continued  to 
regard  it  as  my  invariable  duty  to  conceal  my  real  senti- 
ments and  inclinations  from  all  the  family  of  the  Nekh- 
lyudovs,  and  especially  from  Varenka,  and  endeavoured 
to  pass  for  an  entirely  different  young  man  from  what  I 
really  was,  and  even  to  appear  hke  one  who  could  not 
have  any  existence  in  reality.  I  tried  to  appear  impas- 
sioned, went  into  ecstasies,  sighed,  and  made  passionate 
gestures,  whenever  I  wanted  to  express  my  great  pleasure, 
and  at  the  same  time  attempted  to  appear  indifferent  to 
every  extraordinary  occurrence  which  I  had  witnessed,  or 
of  which  they  told  me ;  tried  to  appear  a  malicious  jester 
for  whom  there  was  nothing  holy,  and  at  the  same  time 
a  shrewd  observer ;  tried  to  appear  logical  in  all  my  acts, 
precise  and  punctual  in  the  affairs  of  life,  and  at  the  same 
time  contemptuous  of  everything  of  a  material  nature.  I 
may  say  I  was  a  much  better  man  in  reality  than  that  odd 
creature  which  I  endeavoured  to  represent,  but  even  such 
as  I  pretended  to  be,  the  Nekhlyudovs  were  fond  of  me 
and,  to  my  good  fortune,  had,  1  think,  no  faith  in  my  pre- 
tensions. Only  Lyubov  Sergy^evna,  who  considered  me 
as  a  great  egotist,  blasphemer,  and  cynic,  I  think,  did  not 
like  me,  and  frequently  quarrelled  with  me,  grew  angry, 
and  tried  to  vanquish  me  with    her    fragmentary,  inco- 


432  YOUTH 

herent  phrases.  But  Dmitri  remained  in  the  same  strange, 
more  than  friendly  relations  with  her,  and  said  that 
nobody  understood  her,  and  that  she  was  doing  him  a 
great  deal  of  good.  His  friendship  for  her  continued  to 
gi-ieve  the  family  as  before. 

Once  Varenka,  who  was  discussing  with  me  that  incom- 
prehensible relation,  explained  it  thus  : 

"  Dmitri  is  egotistical.  He  is  too  proud,  and,  in  spite 
of  his  good  mind,  is  very  fond  of  praise  and  admiration,  and 
likes  always  to  be  first,  while  aunty,  in  the  innocence  of 
her  soul,  worships  him,  and  has  not  enough  tact  to  con- 
ceal that  admiration  for  him,  so  that  in  reality  she  flatters 
him,  only  not  feignedly,  but  sincerely." 

This  reflection  impressed  itself  upon  my  memory,  and 
when  I  later  analyzed  it,  I  could  not  help  thinking  that 
Varenka  was  a  very  clever  girl,  and,  in  consequence,  with 
pleasure  raised  her  in  my  opinion.  As  the  result  of  the 
discovery  of  mind  and  other  moral  qualities  in  her,  I  fre- 
quently advanced  her  thus,  with  pleasure,  but  with  a  cer- 
tain austere  moderation,  and  never  rose  to  ecstasy,  which 
is  the  extreme  point  of  this  advancement.  Thus,  when 
Sofya  Ivanovna,  who  never  stopped  talking  about  her  niece, 
told  me  that  Varenka,  four  years  ago,  while  in  the  country, 
had  without  permission  given  away  all  her  clothes  and 
shoes  to  the  village  children,  so  that  it  was  necessary  to 
gather  them  up  again,  I  did  not  at  once  accept  the  fact  as 
worthy  of  advancing  her  in  my  opinion,  but  mentally 
made  fun  of  her  for  such  an  impractical  view  of  things. 

When  there  were  guests  at  the  Nekhlyudovs,  among 
them  sometimes  Volodya  and  Dubkov,  I  retreated,  with 
self-satisfaction  and  with  a  certain  calm  consciousness  of 
being  a  friend  of  the  family,  to  the  background,  did  not 
take  part  in  the  conversation,  and  only  listened  to  what 
was  said.  And  everything  that  others  said  seemed  to  me 
so  incomprehensibly  stupid  that  I  wondered  mentally 
how  such  a  clever  and  logical  woman  as  the  princess,  and 


MY    FRIENDSHIP    WITH    THE    NEKHLYUDOVS      433 

all  her  logical  family,  could  Ksteu  to  all  those  stupid 
things,  aud  reply  to  them.  If  it  had  occurred  to  me 
then  to  compare  with  what  the  others  said  that  which  I 
said  when  I  was  alone,  I,  no  doubt,  should  not  have  been 
surprised.  Still  less  should  I  have  been  surprised  if  I 
had  come  to  believe  that  our  own  family  —  Avdotya 
Vasilevna,  Lyiibochka,  and  Katenka  —  were  just  such 
women  as  the  rest,  by  no  means  lower  than  others,  aud  if 
I  had  recalled  what  it  was  Dubkov,  Katenka,  and  Avdo- 
tya Vasilevna  talked  about  for  whole  evenings,  smiling 
merrily,  and  how,  nearly  every  time,  Dubkov,  stickhng 
for  something,  read  with  feeling  the  verses,  "  Au  banquet 
de  la  vie,  mfortiuie  convive,"  or  extracts  from  the  "  Demon," 
and,  in  general,  with  what  pleasure  they  uttered  all  kinds 
of  nonsense  for  hours  at  a  time. 

Of  course,  when  guests  were  present,  Varenka  paid  less 
attention  to  me  than  when  we  were  alone,  and,  besides, 
there  was  no  reading,  aud  no  music,  which  I  liked  to  hear  so 
much.  When  she  spoke  to  the  guests  she  lost  her  chief 
charm  for  me, —  her  calm  thoughtfulness  and  simplicity. 
I  remember  how  strangely  I  was  impressed  by  the  con- 
versation about  the  theatre  and  the  weather,  which  she 
held  with  my  brother  Volddya.  I  knew  that  Volodya 
more  than  anything  avoided  and  abhorred  banality,  and 
that  Varenka  also  was  in  the  habit  of  making  fun  of  the 
quasi-entertaining  conversations  about  the  weather,  and 
so  forth  ;  then  why  did  they,  upon  meeting,  eternally 
utter  the  most  unbearable  commonplaces,  and  as  if 
ashamed  of  each  other  ?  After  every  conversation  of  this 
kind  I  was  silently  provoked  with  Varenka,  and  the  fol- 
lowing day  made  fun  of  the  guests,  aud  after  that  I  found 
even  more  pleasure  in  being  alone  in  the  family  circle  of 
the  Nekhlyudovs. 

However  it  may  be,  I  began  to  derive  more  enjoyment 
from  being  with  Dmitri  in  the  drawing-room  of  his 
mother  than  from  being  all  alone  with  him. 


XLI. 

MY   FRIENDSHIP   WITH   NEKHLY^JDOV 

At  this  period  my  friendship  with  Dmitri  was  sus- 
pended by  a  hair.  I  had  begun  long  ago  to  pass  judgment 
on  him,  in  order  to  discover  his  faults ;  but  in  our  first 
youth  we  love  only  passionately,  and,  therefore,  we  love 
only  perfect  men.  But  the  moment  the  mist  of  passion 
begins  to  scatter,  or  the  bright  beams  of  reason  begin 
involuntarily  to  burst  through  it,  and  we  see  the  object  of 
our  passiou  in  its  real  aspect,  with  its  good  and  bad 
qualities,  the  bad  qualities,  like  something  unexpected, 
appear  magnified  and  dazzle  our  eyes ;  the  feeling  of 
novelty  and  of  hope  that  perfection  in  another  man  is 
possible  encourages  us  not  only  to  cool  off  toward,  but 
even  to  turn  away  from,  the  former  object  of  our  passion  ; 
and  we  cast  it  off  without  regret,  and  rush  forward  to 
seek  a  new  perfection.  If  the  same  thing  did  not  happen 
in  my  relation  to  Dmitri,  I  owed  it  to  his  stubborn, 
pedantic,  mental,  rather  than  spiritual,  attachment,  which 
I  should  have  felt  ashamed  to  betray.  In  addition,  we 
were  united  by  our  strange  rule  of  frankness.  When  we 
parted  from  each  other  we  were  afraid  to  leave  all  the 
outrageous  moral  secrets  of  our  confidences  iu  the  power 
of  the  other.  However,  our  rule  of  frankness  was  evi- 
dently not  always  observed,  and  frequently  embarrassed  us, 
and  produced  strange  relations  between  us. 

Nearly  every  time  when  I  called  that  winter  on  Dmitri, 
I  found  his  classmate,  Bezobyi^dov,  with  whom  he  studied. 

434 


MY    FRIENDSHIP    WITH    NEKHLYUDOV  435 

BezobyMov  was  a  small,  pockmarked,  lean  yoving  man, 
with  tiny,  freckled  hands,  and  very  long,  unkempt  hair, 
always  ragged,  dirty,  uncultured,  and  even  a  poor  student. 
Dmitri's  relations  with  him  were  as  inscrutable  to  me  as 
those  with  Lyubov  Sergyeevna.  The  only  cause  for  his 
selecting  him  from  among  all  his  classmates  and  being 
friendly  with  him  was  that  a  worse-looking  student  could 
not  be  found  in  the  whole  university.  Dmitri,  no  doubt, 
found  a  special  delight  in  being  friendly  with  him,  in 
order  to  spite  everybody.  In  all  his  relations  with  that 
student  was  expressed  the  haughty  feeling,  "  It  is  all  the 
same  to  me  who  you  are,  and  I  do  not  care  for  what 
others  say ;  I  like  him,  consequently  he  is  all  right." 

I  marvelled  how  he  could  constrain  himself  so  much, 
and  how  unfortunate  Bezoby^dov  was  able  to  endure  his 
awkward  situation.  I  was  very  much  displeased  with 
that  friendship. 

I  once  called  on  Dmitri  in  the  evening,  in  order  to 
spend  the  time  with  him  in  his  mother's  drawing-room, 
to  chat,  and  to  listen  to  Varenka's  singing  and  reading. 
BezobyMov  was  up-stairs.  Dmitri  answered  me  in  an 
abrupt  voice  that  he  could  not  go  down,  because,  as  I 
could  see,  he  had  a  guest. 

"  What  pleasure  is  there  in  it,  anyway  ? "  he  added. 
"  Let  us  sit  here,  and  have  a  chat." 

Although  I  was  not  at  all  delighted  by  the  idea  of 
staying  two  hours  with  Bezoby^ov,  I  could  not  make  up 
my  mind  to  go  down  by  myself  into  the  drawing-room, 
and,  inw^ardly  provoked  by  my  friend's  odd  ties,  sat  down 
in  a  rocking-chair,  and  began  to  rock.  I  was  very  angry 
with  Dmitri  and  Bezoby^ov  for  depriving  me  of  the 
pleasure  of  being  down-stairs ;  I  waited,  hoping  that 
BezobyMov  would  soon  leave,  and  was  irritated  at  him 
and  Dmitri,  and  listened  in  silence  to  their  conversation. 
"  A  very  agreeable  guest !  Stay  with  him  !  "  I  thought, 
when  a  lackey  brought  tea,  and  Dmitri  had  to  ask  Bezo- 


436  YOUTH 

by^dov  five  times  to  take  a  glass,  because  his  timid  guest 
regarded  it  as  his  duty  to  decline  the  first  and  second 
glass,  saying,  "  Drink  yourself ! "  Dmitri  had  evidently 
to  force  himself  to  entertain  his  guest  with  a  conver- 
sation, into  which  he  vainly  tried  to  drag  me.  I  kept 
sullen  silence. 

"  What's  to  he  done  ?  I  have  such  a  countenance  that 
no  one  would  dare  imagine  I  am  suffering  ennui."  I 
mentally  turned  to  Dmitri,  evenly  rocking  in  my  chair, 
in  silence.  I  began,  with  a  certain  pleasure,  to  fan  in 
myself  an  ever  increasing  feeling  of  quiet  hatred  for  my 
friend.  "  What  a  fool,"  I  thought  of  him  ;  "  he  might  have 
passed  an  agreeable  evening  with  his  charming  relatives, 

—  no,  he  must  stay  here  with  that  beast,  and  now  the 
time  is  passing,  and  it  will  be  too  late  to  go  to  the  draw- 
ing-room," and  I  glanced  at  my  friend  past  the  edge  of 
my  chair.  His  hand,  his  attitude,  his  neck,  and  especially 
the  back  of  his  cranium  and  his  knees  seemed  to  me  so 
disgusting  and  provoking,  that  I  should  have  experienced 
a  certain  pleasure  if  at  that  moment  I  had  said  something 
very  rude  to  him. 

Finally  Bezoby&lov  rose,  but  Dmitri  would  not  let  his 
agreeable  guest  depart  at  once :  he  proposed  to  him  to 
stay  overnight,  but,  fortunately,  Bezoby(5dov  declined, 
and  went  away. 

Having  taken  him  to  the  door,  Dmitri  returned  and, 
softly  smiling  a  self-satisfied  smile  and  rubbing  his  hands, 

—  no  doubt,  because  he  had  sustained  his  character  and 
because  he  was  at  last  free  from  ennui,  —  began  to  pace 
the  room,  looking  at  me  from  time  to  time.  He  appeared 
still  more  disgusting  to  mo.  "  How  dare  he  walk  and 
smile  ?  "  I  thought. 

'•'  What  makes  you  so  sullen  ? "  he  said,  suddenly,  stop- 
ping opposite  me. 

'■  I  am  not  at  all  sullen,"  I  answered,  as  people  always 
answer  under  these  circumstances,  "  I  am  only  annoyed 


MY    FRIENDSHIP    WITH    NEKHLYUDOV  437 

because  you  dissemble,  before  me,  before  BezobyMov, 
and  before  yourself." 

"  What  nonsense  !     I  never  dissemble  before  anybody." 

"  I  am  not  forgetful  of  our  rule  of  fi'ankness,  —  I  am 
telKng  you  the  truth.  I  am  convinced,"  I  said,  "  that  this 
Bezoby^dov  is  as  unbearable  to  you  as  to  me,  for  he  is 
stupid,  and  God  knows  what,  but  you  only  put  on  airs 
before  him." 

"  No  !  And,  in  the  first  place,  Bezobyedov  is  a  fine 
fellow  —  " 

"  But  I  say,  yes.  And  I  tell  you  that  your  friendship 
with  Lyubov  Sergyeevna  is  also  based  on  the  fact  that  she 
regards  you  as  a  god." 

"  But  I  tell  you,  no." 

"And  I  say,  yes,  because  I  know  it  from  my  own 
experience,"  I  answered  him,  with  the  ardour  of  restrained 
annoyance,  and  trying  to  disarm  him  with  my  frankness. 
"  I  have  told  you  so  before,  and  I  repeat  it  now,  that  it 
always  seems  to  me  that  I  love  those  people  who  tell  me 
agreeable  things,  but  when  I  examine  myself  closely,  I 
find  that  there  is  no  real  attachment." 

"  No,"  continued  Dmitri,  correcting  his  necktie  with  an 
angry  jerk  of  his  neck,  "  when  I  love,  neither  praises  nor 
chiding  are  able  to  change  my  feeling." 

"  It  is  not  so.  I  have  told  you  that  when  papa  called 
me  a  good-for-nothing,  I  for  some  time  hated  him  and 
wished  his  death  ;  even  thus  you  —  " 

"  Speak  for  yourself.     I  am  sorry  if  you  are  such  —  " 

"  On  the  contrary,"  I  cried,  jumping  up  from  my  chair, 
and  with  desperate  boldness  looking  into  his  eyes,  "  what 
you  say  is  wrong ;  did  you  not  tell  me  about  brother  ?  — 
I  do  not  understand  you  in  this,  because  it  would  be  dis- 
honest, —  did  you  not  tell  me  ?  —  and  I  will  tell  you, 
since  I  now  understand  you  —  " 

In  my  attempt  to  sting  him  more  painfully  than  he  had 
stung  me,  I  began  to  prove  to  him  that  he  loved  nobody, 


438  YOUTH 

and  to  reproach  him  for  everything  for  which  I  thought  T 
had  a  right  to  blame  him.  I  was  very  nmch  satisfied  at 
having  told  him  all,  and  forgot  that  the  only  possible  pur- 
pose of  this  reproach  was  to  make  him  confess  the  faults 
of  which  I  accused  him,  and  that  this  aim  could  not  be 
reached  at  that  particular  moment  when  he  was  excited. 
I  never  told  him  these  things  when  he  was  calm  and 
might  have  confessed  his  shortcomings. 

Our  discussion  was  growing  into  a  quarrel,  when 
Dmitri  suddenly  became  silent,  and  went  into  another 
room.  I  followed  him,  continuing  to  speak,  but  he  did 
not  answer  me.  I  knew  that  in  the  column  of  his  vices 
was  also  irritability,  and  that  he  was  now  trying  to  over- 
come it.     I  cursed  all  his  rules. 

This,  then,  is  what  our  rule  to  tell  each  other  every- 
thing we  felt,  and  never  to  tell  a  third  person  about  it,  had 
led  us  to  !  In  our  transports  of  frankness  we  frequently 
made  most  disgraceful  confessions  to  each  other,  and,  to 
our  shame,  interpreted  suppositions  and  dreams  as  desires 
and  sensations,  just  as  had  happened  in  this  particular 
case.  These  confessions  not  only  did  not  strengthen  the 
bond  which  united  us,  but  dried  up  that  very  feeling,  and 
disunited  us ;  and  now  his  egotism  suddenly  prevented 
him  from  making  the  simplest  kind  of  confession,  and  in 
the  heat  of  the  discussion  we  made  use  of  the  very 
weapons  which  we  had  given  one  another,  and  which 
struck  us  painfully. 


XLIL 

OUR    STEPMOTHEB 

Although  papa  had  intended  to  come  to  Moscow  with 
his  wife  after  New  Year's,  he  arrived  in  October,  when 
hunting  with  dogs  was  still  in  full  swing.  Papa  said  that 
he  had  changed  his  mind  because  his  case  was  to  be  taken 
up  in  the  Senate ;  but  Mimi  told  us  that  Avdotya  Vasi- 
levna  suffered  such  ennui  in  the  country,  and  so  often 
spoke  of  Moscow,  and  pretended  to  be  ill,  that  papa 
decided  to  fulfil  her  wish.  "  Because  she  never  loved 
him,  and  only  tired  everybody  talking  of  her  love,  when 
she  really  only  wished  to  marry  a  rich  man,"  added  Mimi, 
drawing  a  pensive  sigh,  as  if  to  say :  "  Certain  people 
would  have  acted  quite  differently,  if  he  had  only  known 
how  to  appreciate  them." 

Certain  people  were  unjust  to  Avdotya  Vasilevna  ;  her 
love  for  papa,  a  passionate,  loyal  love  of  self-sacrifice,  was 
visible  in  every  word,  look,  and  motion  of  hers.  But 
this  love  did  not  in  the  least  interfere,  aside  from  her 
desire  not  to  be  .separated  from  the  husband  she  wor- 
shipped, with  her  wanting  an  extraordinary  bonnet  from 
Madame  Annete,  a  hat  with  an  unusual,  blue  ostrich 
feather,  and  a  dress  of  blue  Venetian  velvet,  which  would 
artistically  display  her  stately  bosom  and  arms,  that  no 
one  but  her  husband  and  maids  had  seen  heretofore. 
Katenka  was  naturally  on  the  side  of  her  mother,  while 
between  us  and  our  stepmother  strange,  jocular  relations 
were  established  from  the  very  first  day  of  her  arrival. 

43y 


440  YOUTH 

The  moment  she  stepped  out  of  the  carriage,  Volodya, 
with  a  solemn  face  and  dim  eyes,  scuffing  and  curtsey- 
ing, walked  up  to  her  hand,  and  said,  as  if  introducing 
some  one : 

"  I  have  the  honour  of  welcoming  my  dear  mother,  and 
kissing  her  hand." 

"  Oh,  dear  son  ! "  said  Avddtya  Vasilevna,  smiling  her 
beautiful,  monotonous  smile. 

"  And  do  not  forget  your  second  son,"  I  said,  also  walk- 
ing up  to  her  hand,  and  involuntarily  assuming  Volddya's 
expression  and  voice. 

If  our  stepmother  and  we  had  been  sure  of  mutual 
attachment,  this  expression  miglit  have  signified  a  disre- 
gard of  demonstrative  tokens  of  love ;  if  we  had  been 
before  hostilely  inclined  toward  each  other,  it  might  have 
signified  irony,  or  contempt  of  dissembling,  or  a  desire  to 
conceal  from  father  our  real  relations,  and  many  other 
sentiments  and  thoughts ;  but  in  the  present  case,  this 
expression,  which  exactly  fitted  Avdotya  Vasilevna's  dis- 
position, meant  absolutely  nothing,  and  only  concealed  an 
absence  of  all  relations.  I  have  often  noticed  since,  in 
other  families,  just  such  jocular,  false  relations,  whenever 
their  members  have  a  presentiment  that  the  true  relations 
would  not  be  in  place ;  precisely  these  relations  subsisted 
between  us  and  Avdotya  A^asilevna.  We  hardly  ever 
came  out  of  them ;  we  were  always  dissemblingly  pohte 
to  her,  spoke  French,  scuffed,  and  called  her  "  Chere 
maman"  to  which  she  always  replied  with  jokes  of  the 
same  character,  and  with  her  beautiful,  monotonous  smile. 
Blubbering  Lyubochka  alone,  with  her  bandy  legs  and 
silly  conversations,  took  a  liking  to  our  stepmother,  and 
very  naively,  and  at  times  awkwardly,  endeavoured  to 
bring  us  all  together ;  and  thus  Lyubochka  was  the  only 
person  in  the  whole  world  for  whom  Avdotya  Vasilevna 
had  a  drop  of  attachment  outside  of  her  passionate  love 
for  papa.     Avdotya  Vasilevna  showed  for  her  an  ecstatic 


OUR    STEPMOTHER  441 

admiration   and    timid   respect,   which   amazed   us  very 
much. 

In  the  beginning  Avdotya  Vasilevna  was  fond  of  call- 
ing herself  stepmother  and  hinting  how  badly  and  unjustly 
children  and  home  people  always  looked  upon  a  step- 
mother, and  how  difficult  her  position  was  in  consequence. 
Although  she  well  knew  the  disagreeableness  of  this  posi- 
tion, she  did  nothing  to  avoid  it,  —  by  fondling  one,  giv- 
ing some  gift  to  another,  and  keeping  her  temper,  —  which 
would  have  been  a  very  easy  thing  for  her  to  do,  because 
she  was  not  exacting  by  nature,  and  was  very  good  at 
heart.  She  not  only  did  not  do  so,  but,  on  the  contrary, 
foreseeing  her  disagreeable  state,  she  prepared  for  defence 
without  being  attacked ;  and,  suspecting  that  all  the  peo- 
ple of  the  house  wanted  to  be  in  every  way  rude  and 
insulting  to  her,  she  saw  a  purpose  in  everything,  and 
regarded  it  as  most  dignified  to  suffer  in  silence  ;  and,  of 
course,  by  not  inviting  love  with  her  inaction,  invited 
only  enmity.  Besides,  she  was  so  entirely  devoid  of  the 
faculty  of  "understanding,"  of  which  I  have  spoken 
before,  and  which  was  highly  developed  in  our  house, 
and  her  habits  were  so  different  from  those  which  had 
taken  deep  root  with  us,  that  this  alone  went  against 
her. 

In  our  punctual  and  neat  home  she  lived  as  though  she 
had  just  arrived,  rose  and  retired  now  late,  now  early, 
and  came  to  dinner  and  supper  irregularly.  When  there 
were  no  guests  she  walked  about  half-dressed,  and  was 
not  ashamed  to  appear  before  us  and  the  servants  in  her 
petticoat,  with  a  shawl  al)out  her,  leaving  her  arms  bare. 
At  first  I  hked  this  simplicity,  but  very  soon  I  lost,  on 
account  of  this  very  simplicity,  the  last  respect  which  I 
had  for  her.  Stranger  still  for  us  was  the  fact  that  there 
were  two  women  in  her,  according  as  there  were  guests 
or  not :  before  guests,  .she  was  a  young,  healthy,  and  cold 
beauty,   superbly    dressed,    not    stupid,   not    clever,    but 


442  YOUTH 

mirthful ;  without  guests,  she  was  au  oldish,  haggard, 
repiuing  woman,  slatternly,  and  suffering  ennui,  though 
loving.  Frequently,  when  I  saw  how  she,  smiling  and 
flushed  from  the  wintry  cold,  happy  in  the  consciousness 
of  her  beauty,  returned  from  visits,  and,  taking  off  her 
hat,  walked  up  to  the  mirror  to  examine  herself  in  it ;  or 
how  she,  rustling  her  superb  low-cut  ball-dress,  ashamed 
and  at  the  same  time  proud  before  her  servants,  walked 
to  her  carriage ;  or  how  she,  at  home,  when  we  had  some 
little  evening  parties,  dressed  in  a  high-necked  silk  dress, 
with  fine  laces  about  her  delicate  neck,  showered  on  all 
sides  her  monotonous,  but  beautiful  smile,  I  thought, 
what  would  those  say  who  admired  her  if  they  saw  her 
as  I  did,  when  she  stayed  at  home  in  the  evening,  waiting 
till  after  twelve  o'clock  for  her  husband's  return  from  the 
club,  and  in  some  capote,  with  unkempt  hair,  walked  like 
a  shadow  through  the  dimly  Hghted  rooms  ?  She  would 
walk  up  to  the  piano,  and  play,  frowning  with  her  effort, 
the  only  waltz  which  she  knew ;  or  take  up  a  novel  and, 
having  read  a  few  sentences  in  the  middle,  throw  it  away 
again ;  or,  in  order  not  to  wake  the  people,  walk  up  to 
the  buffet  and  take  out  from  it  a  cucumber  and  some  cold 
veal,  and  eat  it,  standing  at  the  window  of  the  buffet ;  or 
again,  tired  and  gloomy,  aimlessly  walk  from  one  room  to 
another. 

Nothing  disunited  us  so  much  as  the  absence  of  under- 
standing, which  found  its  expression  more  particularly  in 
a  characteristic  manner  of  condescending  attention,  when- 
ever we  spoke  about  things  unintelligible  to  her.  She  was 
not  to  be  blamed  for  acquiring  an  unconscious  habit  of 
slightly  smiling  with  her  lips  only,  and  nodding,  whenever 
she  was  told  things  that  little  interested  her  (nothing 
interested  her  but  herself  and  her  husband ) ;  but  this 
smile  and  nod,  frequently  repeated,  were  unbeara])ly 
detestable.  Her  merriment,  too,  as  though  mocking  her- 
self, us,  and  the  whole  world,  was  also  awkward  and  did 


OUR   STEPMOTHER  443 

not  communicate  itself  to  others ;  and  her  sentimentality 
was  truly  nauseating.  The  main  thing  was  that  she  did 
not  blush  to  tell  everybody  continually  of  her  love  for 
papa.  Though  she  did  not  tell  an  untruth  when  she 
asserted  that  all  her  life  consisted  in  her  love  for  her 
husband,  and  though  she  proved  it  by  her  whole  life,  this 
unabashed,  uninterrupted  repetition  about  her  love  was, 
according  to  our  ideas,  detestable,  and  we  were  even  more 
ashamed  for  her  when  she  told  it  to  strangers,  than  when 
she  made  mistakes  in  speaking  French. 

She  loved  her  husband  more  than  anything  else  in  the 
world,  and  her  husband  loved  her,  especially  in  the  begin- 
ning, when  he  saw  that  she  pleased  others  as  well.  The 
only  aim  of  her  life  was  to  get  the  love  of  her  husband ; 
but  she  seemed  purposely  to  be  doing  everything  which 
might  displease  him,  with  the  aim  in  view  of  showing 
him  all  the  power  of  her  love  and  her  readiness  for  self- 
sacrifice. 

She  was  fond  of  fine  dresses,  and  father  liked  to  see 
her  a  belle  in  society,  so  as  to  provoke  praises  and  admi- 
ration ;  she  sacrificed  her  passion  for  fine  garments  for 
father,  and  more  and  more  accustomed  herself  to  stay  at 
home  in  a  gray  blouse.  Papa,  who  regarded  freedom  and 
equahty  as  necessary  conditions  in  family  relations,  had 
hoped  that  his  favourite  Lyubochka  and  his  good  young 
wife  would  become  intimate  and  friendly  ;  but  Avdotya 
Vasilevna  sacrificed  herself,  and  thought  it  necessary  to 
show  an  improper  respect  to  the  real  hostess  of  the  house, 
as  she  called  Lyubochka,  which  painfully  offended  papa. 
He  played  a  great  deal  that  winter,  finally  lost  much, 
and,  anxious,  as  ever,  not  to  mix  up  his  gambling  with 
his  domestic  affairs,  concealed  all  his  gaming  from  his 
home  people.  Aydotya  Vasilevna  sacrificed  herself,  and 
though  frequently  ill,  and  even  pregnant  at  the  end  of 
winter,  considered  it  her  duty,  in  her  gray  blouse,  with 
unkempt  hair,  though  it  were  four  or  five  o'clock  in  the 


444  YOUTH 

morning,  to  totter  along  in  order  to  meet  papa,  when  he, 
frequently  tired,  having  sustained  losses,  shamefaced,  after 
an  eighth  fine,  returned  from  his  club.  She  asked  him 
abstractedly  whether  he  had  been  lucky  at  the  game,  anr 
she  listened  with  condescending  attention,  smiling  ana 
nodding,  to  what  he  told  her  about  his  doings  in  the  club, 
and  to  his  hundredth  entreaty  not  to  wait  for  him.  And 
although  my  father's  gains  and  losses,  on  which,  such  was 
his  game,  his  wealth  depended,  did  not  in  the  least  interest 
her,  she  continued  to  be  the  first  to  meet  him,  every  time 
when  lie  returned  from  his  club.  In  truth,  she  was  urged 
on  to  these  meetings  not  only  by  her  passion  for  self- 
sacrifice,  but  by  a  secret  jealousy,  from  which  she  suffered 
to  an  extraordinary  degree.  Nobody  in  the  world  could 
have  convinced  her  that  papa  was  returning  so  late  from 
his  club,  and  not  from  an  amour.  She  tried  to  read  in 
papa's  face  his  amatory  secrets,  and  not  making  out  any- 
thing, she  sighed,  with  a  certain  pleasurableness  of  gi'ief, 
and  gave  herself  over  to  the  contemplation  of  her  mis- 
fortune. 

On  account  of  these,  and  many  other,  continuous  sacri- 
fices, in  papa's  relations  with  his  wife,  there  became 
noticeable,  in  the  last  months  of  that  winter,  when  he 
lost  a  great  deal,  and  therefore  was  generally  out  of  sorts, 
an  intermediate  feehng  of  quiet  hatred,  —  that  reserved 
detestation  of  the  object  of  attachment,  which  expresses 
itself  in  an  unconscious  tendency  to  offer  all  kinds  of 
petty,  moral  annoyances  to  that  object. 


XLIII. 

NEW   COMPANIONS 

The  winter  passed  unnoticed  and  it  began  to  thaw,  and 
in  the  university  the  schedule  of  examinations  was  already 
nailed  to  the  wall,  when  I  suddenly  recalled  that  I  had  to 
pass  examinations  in  eighteen  subjects  which  I  had  taken, 
but  of  which  I  had  neither  heard,  nor  noted  down,  nor 
prepared  a  single  one.  It  is  strange  such  a  plain  question 
as  how  to  pass  my  examinations  had  never  occurred  to 
me.  I  lived  all  that  winter  in  such  a  mist,  which  was 
occasioned  by  my  enjoyment  of  being  a  grown  man  and 
comme  il  faut,  that  when  such  a  question  as  the  examina- 
tions did  occur  to  me,  I  compared  myself  with  my  com- 
panions, and  thought,  "  They  will  go  to  the  examinations, 
and  most  of  them  are  not  yet  comme  il  faut,  consequently 
I  have  an  advantage  over  them,  and  certainly  shall  pass 
my  examinations."  I  attended  my  lectures  only  because 
I  got  used  to  doing  so,  and  because  papa  told  me  to  go. 
And  then,  I  had  many  acquaintances,  and  I  often  had  a 
joUy  time  at  the  university.  I  loved  that  noise,  that  con- 
versation, that  laughter  of  the  lecture-rooms  ;  loved  during 
the  lectures,  while  occupying  a  back  seat,  at  the  even 
sound  of  the  professor's  voice,  to  dream  of  something,  and 
to  observe  my  companions  ;  loved  sometimes  to  run  down 
to  Materu  to  take  a  drink  of  brandy  and  a  bite  of  some- 
thing, and,  though  I  knew  the  professors  might  afterward 
get  after  me  for  it,  timidly  to  open  the  creaking  door,  and 
enter  the  lecture-room  ;  loved  to  take  part  in  some  practi- 

445 


446  YOUTH 

cal  joke,  when  the  different  courses  pressed  against  each 
other  in  the  corridor.     All  that  was  very  jolly. 

When  everybody  began  to  attend  lectures  more  regu- 
larly, and  the  professor  of  physics  finished  his  course  and 
bade  us  good-bye  until  the  examinations,  and  the  students 
collected  their  note-books  and  started  to  study  in  gi-oups, 
I,  too,  thought  I  ought  to  prepare  myself.  Operov,  with 
whom  I  continued  to  exchange  greetings,  but  with  whom 
I  was  otherwise  on  a  very  distant  footing,  offered  me,  as  I 
mentioned  before,  his  note-books,  and  even  proposed  that 
I  should  come  with  other  students  to  prepare  the  exami- 
nations together  with  him.  I  thanked  him  and  consented, 
hoping  by  honouring  him  thus  to  wipe  out  our  old  mis- 
understanding, but  insisted  that  all  the  students  should 
come  to  my  house,  because  I  had  pleasant  quarters. 

I  was  told  that  we  should  prepare,  by  turns,  now  at  one 
house,  now  at  another,  wherever  it  was  most  convenient 
as  to  distance.  The  first  time  we  met  at  the  house  of 
Zukhin.  It  was  a  small  room  with  a  partition,  in  a  large 
house  on  Trubndy  Boulevard.  I  was  late  that  first  day,  and 
arrived  when  they  had  begun  to  read.  The  small  room 
was  filled  with  smoke  from  the  strongest  kind  of  tobacco, 
which  Zukhin  smoked.  On  the  table  stood  a  decanter 
with  brandy,  a  wine-glass,  bread,  salt,  and  a  leg  of  mutton. 

Ziikhin  did  not  get  up,  but  invited  me  to  have  a  drink, 
and  take  off  my  coat. 

"  I  suppose  you  are  not  used  to  such  a  reception,"  he 
added. 

They  all  had  on  dirty  chintz  shirts  and  fronts.  Trying 
not  to  express  my  contempt  for  them,  I  took  off  my  coat, 
and  lay  down  on  the  sofa,  in  an  unconventional  fashion. 
Zukhin  was  reading,  occasionally  consulting  his  note- 
books ;  others  stopped  him  and  asked  him  questions 
which  he  answered  briefly,  cleverly,  and  precisely.  I  lis- 
tened, and  asked  him  a  question,  since  there  was  much 
which  I  did  not  understand,  not  knowing  what  preceded. 


NEW   COMPANIONS  447 

"My  friend,  there  is  no  use  listening  if  you  do  not 
know  this,"  said  Ziikhin.  "  I  will  give  you  the  note- 
books, you  study  it  up  for  to-morrow ;  there  will  other- 
wise be  no  use  explaining  to  you."  I  felt  ashamed  of  my 
ignorance,  and,  at  the  same  time  being  conscious  of  the 
justice  of  Zukhin's  remarks,  I  quit  listening,  and  busied 
myself  with  observing  my  new  companions.  According 
to  my  classification  into  people  comme  il  faut,  and  people 
not  comme  il  faut,  they  obviously  belonged  to  the  second 
division,  and,  consequently,  aroused  in  me  not  only  the 
feeling  of  contempt,  but  also  a  certain  personal  hatred 
which  I  experienced  toward  them,  because,  not  being 
comtne  il  faut,  they  seemed  to  regard  me  merely  as  their 
equal,  and  even  to  treat  me  in  a  condescending,  though 
kindly  manner.  This  feeling  was  provoked  in  me  by 
their  feet,  their  dirty '  hands  with  their  bitten  nails,  by 
Operov's  long  nail  on  his  little  finger,  by  their  rose-coloured 
shirts,  their  fronts,  their  swearing,  which  they  jestingly 
directed  at  each  other,  the  dirty  room,  Ziikhin's  habit  of 
frequently  clearing  his  nose  by  pressing  his  finger  against 
one  nostril,  and  especially  by  their  manner  of  pronouncing, 
using,  and  accentuating  certain  words.  For  example,  they 
used  the  word  "  insensate  "  for  "  foolish,"  "  precisely  "  for 
"  just,"  "  superb "  for  "  all  right,"  and  so  forth,  which 
seemed  to  me  bookish  and  detestably  improper.  I  was 
still  more  provoked  to  hatred  by  their  accentuation  of 
some  Eussian,  and  especially  foreign,  words. 

In  spite  of  their  repulsive  exterior,  which  at  that  time 
I  was  unable  to  overlook,  I  felt  that  there  was  something 
good  in  these  people,  and,  envying  the  jolly  comradery 
which  united  them,  was  drawn  to  these  students,  and 
wished  to  become  better  acquainted  with  them,  however 
hard  it  was  for  me  to  do  so.  I  already  knew  gentle, 
honest  Operov ;  now,  I  took  a  special  liking  for  quick, 
extremely  clever  Ziikhin,  who  evidently  was  a  leader  in 
this  circle.     He  was  a  small,  thick-set  man  of  dark  com- 


448  YOUTH 

plexion,  with  a  somewhat  swollen  and  always  shining,  but 
exceedingly  intelhgent,  lively,  and  independent  counte- 
nance. This  expression  he  owed  mainly  to  a  low,  but 
arched  forehead  over  deep-set  black  eyes,  bristly  short 
hair,  and  a  thick  black  beard,  which  always  looked 
unshaven.  He  did  not  seem  to  be  thinking  about  himself 
(which  always  pleased  me  in  people),  and  it  was  evident 
that  his  brain  was  never  idle.  He  had  one  of  those 
expressive  faces  which  suddenly  change  in  your  opinion 
a  few  hours  after  you  have  seen  them  for  the  first  time. 
This  happened,  in  my  opinion,  with  Zvikhin's  face  toward 
the  end  of  that  evening.  Suddenly  new  wrinkles  appeared 
in  his  face,  his  eyes  retreated  farther,  his  smile  became 
different,  and  his  whole  countenance  was  so  changed  that 
it  was  hard  to  recognize  him. 

When  the  reading  was  over,  Zilkhin,  the  other  students, 
and  I  drank  a  glass  of  brandy,  and  the  decanter  was  almost 
empty.  Ziikhiu  asked  who  had  a  quarter,  so  that  he  could 
send  the  old  woman,  who  waited  on  him,  for  some  more 
brandy.  I  offered  him  my  money,  but  Zvlkhin  turned 
to  Operov,  as  though  he  had  not  heard  me,  and  Operov 
took  out  his  beaded  purse,  and  gave  him  the  required 
coin. 

"  Look  out  and  don't  drink  too  much,"  said  Operov,  who 
did  not  drink  himself. 

"  Don't  be  afraid,"  answered  Ziikhin,  sucking  the  mar- 
row out  of  the  bone  of  mutton  (I  remember  how  I  thought 
that  it  was  his  eating  so  much  marrow  that  made  him  so 
clever).  "Don't  be  afraid,"  continued  Ziikhin,  smiling 
slightly,  and  his  smile  was  usually  such  that  you  had  to 
notice  it,  and  thank  him  for  it.  "  Though  I  may  drink  a 
bit,  it  will  not  harm  me  ;  now,  my  friend,  we  shall  see  who 
will  beat  whom,  he  me,  or  I  him.  It  is  all  fixed,  my 
friend,"  he  added,  boastingly  snapping  his  fingers  against 
his  brow.  "  Now,  I  am  afraid  Semenov  will  flunk  ;  he  has 
been  drinkin<i  hard." 


NEW    COMP ANIONS  449 

So  it  happened  :  that  very  Sem^nov  with  the  gray  hair, 
who  had  so  much  pleased  me  at  the  first  examination 
because  he  looked  worse  than  I,  and  who,  after  having 
passed  his  entrance  examinations  second  on  the  Kst,  had 
in  the  first  month  of  his  student  life  regularly  attended 
his  lectures,  toward  the  end  did  not  appear  at  all  at  the 
university,  having  gone  on  a  spree  long  before  reviewing 
time. 

"  Where  is  he  1 "  somebody  asked. 

"  I  have  lost  sight  of  him,"  continued  Zukhin.  "  Last 
time  we  smashed  '  Lisbon '  together.  It  was  a  superb 
affair.  Then,  they  say,  there  was  something  or  other  — 
He  has  a  great  head  !  There  is  a  lot  of  fire  in  that  man  ! 
A  lot  of  brain  !  It  will  be  a  pity  if  he  goes  to  the  dogs. 
And  he  will,  no  doubt.  He  is  not  the  kind  of  a  lad,  with 
his  impulses,  to  hold  out  at  the  university." 

After  a  short  chat,  they  went  away,  having  first  agreed 
to  meet  the  following  days  at  Zukhin's,  as  his  room  was 
centrally  located.  When  they  went  out,  I  felt  embarrassed 
because  they  all  walked,  and  I  had  a  vehicle,  sol  timidly 
proposed  to  Operov  to  take  him  home.  Ziikhin  had  fol- 
lowed us  out,  and,  having  borrowed  a  rouble  of  Operov, 
went  away  somewhere  to  pass  the  whole  night.  On  our 
way,  Operov  told  me  a  great  deal  about  Zukhin's  character 
and  manner  of  life.  When  I  returned  home  I  could  not 
fall  asleep  for  a  long  time,  as  I  pondered  about  these  my 
new  acquaintances.  I  long  wavered  between  respect  for 
them,  to  which  their  knowledge,  their  simplicity,  honesty, 
and  poetry  of  youth,  and  careless  bravery  led  me,  and 
revulsion,  produced  by  their  indecent  exterior.  In  spite 
of  my  best  wishes,  it  was  at  that  time  literally  impossible 
for  me  to  get  on  a  close  footing  with  them.  Our  concep- 
tions were  quite  different.  There  was  an  abyss  of  shades 
which  for  me  constituted  the  whole  charm  and  meaning  of 
life,  but  which  was  quite  incomprehensible  to  them,  and 
vice  versa.     But  the  chief  cause  which  made  it  impossible 


450  '  YOUTH 

for  us  to  get  nearer  to  each  other  lay  in  the  twenty-rouble 
cloth  of  my  coat,  my  vehicle,  and  fine  linen  shirts.  This 
cause  was  particularly  important  for  me ;  it  seemed  to  me 
that  I  involuntarily  offended  them  with  the  signs  of  my 
wealth.  I  felt  guilty  before  them,  and,  now  humbling 
myself,  now  feeling  provoked  for  my  undeserved  humility, 
and  again  passing  to  self-confidence,  was  entirely  unable 
to  enter  into  equal,  sincere  relations  with  them.  The 
coarse  and  depraved  side  of  Zukhin's  character  was  at  this 
time  drowned  for  me  in  that  powerful  poetry  of  daring,  of 
which  I  felt  he  was  possessed,  so  that  it  did  not  affect  me 
unpleasantly. 

I  went  nearly  every  evening  for  two  weeks  to  Ziikhin's 
to  study.  I  studied  very  little,  however,  because,  as  I  have 
already  remarked,  I  was  too  far  behind  my  classmates.  I 
did  not  have  enough  strength  of  character  to  study  by 
myself  in  order  to  catch  up  with  them,  and  thus  only  pre- 
tended I  was  listening  and  understanding  what  they  were 
reading.  I  thought  my  companions  guessed  I  was  feign- 
ing, and  I  frequently  noticed  that  they  left  out  passages 
which  they  knew,  and  never  asked  me  about  them. 

With  every  day  I  more  and  more  excused  the  irregulari- 
ties of  that  circle,  entering  more  into  its  life,  and  finding 
more  poetry  in  it.  The  word  of  honour,  which  I  had  given 
to  Dmitri  that  I  would  never  go  out  carousing  with  them, 
kept  me  back  in  my  desire  to  share  their  pleasures. 

Once  I  tried  to  boast  to  them  of  my  knowledge  of  litera- 
ture, particularly  French,  and  led  up  the  conversation  to 
it.  To  my  astonishment  I  found  that,  although  they  pro- 
nounced the  foreign  titles  in  Eussian,  they  had  read  a  great 
deal  more  than  I,  and  that  they  knew  and  appreciated  the 
Enghsh,  and  even  Spanish,  authors,  and  Le  Sage,  whose 
names  even  I  had  never  heard.  Pushkin  and  Zhukovski 
were  literature  to  them,  and  not,  as  to  me,  books  in  yellow 
bindings,  which  I  had  read  and  learned  when  a  child.  They 
despised  Dumas,  Sue,  and  F^val  alike,  and  they  all,  espe- 


NEW    COMPANIONS  451 

daily  Ziikhiu,  judged  literature  much  better  and  clearer 
than  I,  a  fact  which  I  could  not  help  acknowledging. 

Nor  did  I  have  any  advantage  over  them  in  the  knowl- 
edge of  music.  To  my  still  greater  astonishment,  Operov 
played  the  violin,  another  student  who  came  there  played 
the  cello  and  the  piano,  and  both  played  in  the  university 
orchestra,  knew  music  well,  and  appreciated  what  was  good. 
In  short,  everything  of  which  I  wanted  to  boast  before 
them,  except  my  pronunciation  of  French  and  German, 
they  knew  better  than  I,  and  were  not  in  the  least  proud 
of  it.  I  might  have  bragged  of  my  knowledge  of  the 
world,  but  I  was  not  possessed  of  it  like  Volddya.  Then, 
what  was  that  height  from  which  I  looked  down  upon 
them  ?  My  acquaintance  with  Prince  Ivan  Ivanovich  ? 
My  pronunciation  of  French  ?  My  linen  shirt  ?  My  nails  ? 
But  were  not  all  these  mere  trifles  ?  It  sometimes  occurred 
to  me  dimly,  under  the  influence  of  the  feeling  of  envy 
which  I  had  in  that  company  and  of  the  good-hearted 
merriment  which  I  observed.  They  all  spoke  "  thou  "  to 
each  other.  The  simplicity  of  their  address  frequently 
reached  coarseness,  but  even  under  that  coarse  exterior 
could  be  noticed  a  constant  fear  of  offending  one  another. 
"  Rascal,"  "  pig,"  which  they  employed  as  words  of  endear- 
ment, were  irksome  to  me,  and  gave  me  cause  for  making 
fun  of  them  inwardly  ;  but  these  words  did  not  offend 
them,  and  did  not  prevent  their  being  on  a  very  friendly 
and  intimate  footing.  In  their  relations  with  each  other 
they  were  as  careful  and  refined  as  only  very  poor  and 
very  young  people  can  be.  The  main  thing  was,  I  felt  a 
broad,  daring  sweep  in  Ziikhin's  character,  and  in  his 
exploits  in  "  Lisbon."  I  imagined  that  these  carousals 
were  something  quite  different  from  that  hypocrisy  with 
the  burnt  rum  and  champagne,  in  which  I  had  taken  part 
at  the  house  of  Baron  Z . 


XLIV. 

z6khin  and  semenov 

I  DO  not  know  to  what  condition  of  life  Zukhin  belonged, 

but  I  know  that  he  had  been  a  Gymnasiast  at  S ,  was 

without  any  means,  and,  it  seems,  was  not  of  the  gentry. 
He  was  then  about  eighteen  years  of  age,  though  he  looked 
much  older.  He  was  uncommonly  clever,  but  especially 
quick-witted  :  it  was  easier  for  him  at  once  to  grasp  a  whole, 
complicated  subject,  to  foresee  all  its  details  and  deductions, 
than  consciously  to  judge  the  laws  by  which  these  deduc- 
tions were  arrived  at.  He  knew  he  was  clever,  was  proud 
of  it,  and,  on  account  of  this  pride,  was  equally  simple  in 
his  relations  with  everybody,  and  Idnd-hearted.  He  had, 
no  doubt,  experienced  much  in  life.  His  impassioned,  re- 
ceptive nature  had  had  time  to  receive  the  impress  of  love, 
friendship,  affairs,  and  money  matters.  Though  in  a  small 
way,  and  only  in  the  lower  strata  of  society,  there  was  not 
a  thing  for  which,  if  he  had  experienced  it,  he  did  not  have 
something  like  contempt,  or  indifference  and  inattention, 
which  originated  in  the  great  facihty  with  which  every- 
thing came  to  him.  He  seemed  to  take  up  with  ardour 
everything  new,  only  in  order  to  scorn  it  the  moment  he 
had  attained  his  end,  —  and  his  apt  nature  always  attained 
its  ends,  and  the  right  to  scorn  them. 

The  same  was  true  of  his  sciences :  though  he  did  not 
study  much,  nor  take  down  notes,  he  knew  mathematics 
excellently,  and  it  was  not  an  idle  boast  when  he  said  he 
would  beat  his  professor.     He  considered   many  of  the 

4'r2 


ZUKHIN    AND    SEMENOV  453 

lectures  the  merest  nonsense,  but  with  the  unconscious 
practical  temporizing  which  was  inherent  in  his  nature, 
he  easily  fell  in  with  the  professors,  and  tliey  liked  him. 
He  was  brusque  in  his  relations  with  the  authorities,  but 
the  authorities  respected  him.  He  had  no  regard  nor  love 
for  the  sciences,  and  even  had  contempt  for  those  who  seri- 
ously strove  to  acquire  what  came  to  him  so  easily.  The 
sciences,  as  he  understood  them,  did  not  occupy  one-tenth 
of  his  faculties ;  hfe  as  a  student  did  not  offer  him  any- 
thing to  which  he  could  devote  himself  entirely ;  and  his 
impassioned,  active  nature,  as  he  himself  said,  demanded 
life,  and  he  gave  himself  up  to  carousing,  according  to  his 
means,  with  ardour  and  with  tlie  desire  to  wear  himself 
out  completely.  Just  before  the  examinations,  Operov's 
prediction  came  true.  He  disappeared  for  two  weeks,  and 
we  had  to  study  at  the  house  of  another  student.  But  at 
the  first  examination  he  appeared  in  the  hall,  pale,  emaci- 
ated, with  trembling  hands,  and  was  brilliantly  promoted 
to  the  second  course. 

In  the  beginning  of  the  year  there  were  some  eight  men 
in  the  band  of  carousers,  of  which  Zilkhiu  was  the  leader. 
Among  their  number  were  at  first  Ikonin  and  Sem^nov, 
but  Ikonin  withdrew  from  the  company,  being  unable  to 
stand  all  the  reckless  orgies  to  which  they  abandoned  them- 
selves in  the  beginning  of  the  year,  and  Semenov  withdrew, 
because  it  was  not  enough  for  him.  In  the  beginning  every- 
body in  our  course  looked  with  terror  at  them,  and  told 
each  other  their  exploits. 

The  chief  heroes  of  these  exploits  were  Ziikhin,  and 
toward  the  end  of  the  year,  Semenov.  Semenov  finally 
was  looked  upon  with  a  certain  terror,  and  when  he  made 
his  appearance  at  a  lecture,  which  was  rather  rarely,  the 
whole  lecture-room  was  agitated. 

Semenov  ended  his  carousing  activities  immediately 
before  the  examinations  in  a  most  energetic  and  original 
manner,  and  I  was  a  witness  to  it,  thanks  to  my  acquaint- 


454  YOUTH 

ance  with  Ziikhin.  It  happened  like  this.  One  evening, 
when  we  had  just  come  together  at  Ziikhin's,  and  Operov, 
having  placed  near  himself  one  candle  in  a  candlestick  and 
another  in  a  bottle,  had  lowered  his  head  and  begun  to 
read  in  his  thin  voice  his  finely  written  note-books  of 
physics,  the  landlady  entered  the  room  and  announced  to 
Zukhin  that  somebody  had  brought  a  note  for  him  — 


XLV. 

I   FLUNKED 

At  last  came  the  first  examination,  in  differential  and 
integral  calculus,  while  I  was  still  living  in  a  strange  mist, 
and  was  not  clearly  conscious  of  what  was  awaiting  me. 
In  the  evenings,  when  I  returned  from  my  visits  to  Ziikhin's 
company,  I  was  haunted  by  the  thought  that  I  ought  to 
modify  my  convictions,  that  there  was  something  wrong 
in  them ;  but  in  the  morning,  in  the  sunshine,  I  again 
became  comme  il  faut,  was  satisfied  with  it,  and  did  not 
desire  any  changes. 

I  was  in  such  a  frame  of  mind  when  I  arrived  at  my 
first  examination.  I  sat  down  on  the  bench  where  princes, 
counts,  and  barons  sat,  began  to  converse  with  them  in 
French,  and,  however  strange  it  may  seem,  it  did  not  even 
occur  to  me  that  very  soon  I  should  have  to  answer  ques- 
tions in  a  subject  I  knew  nothing  about.  I  looked  calmly 
at  all  who  went  up  to  be  examined,  and  even  permitted 
myself  to  make  fun  of  some  of  them. 

"  Well,  Grap,"  I  said  to  Iliuka,  when  he  returned  from 
the  table,  "  are  you  scared  ? " 

"  We  shall  see  how  you  w\\\  do,"  said  Ilinka,  who  had 
revolted  against  my  influence,  ever  since  he  had  entered 
the  university,  did  not  smile  when  I  spoke  to  him,  and  was 
ill  disposed  toward  me. 

I  smiled  contemptuously  at  Ilinka's  answer,  although 
the  doubt  which  he  had  expressed  frightened  me  for  a 
moment.     But  a  mist  again  shrouded  that  feeling,  and  I 


456  YOUTH 

continued  to  be  absent-minded  and  indifferent,  so  that 

I  promised  Baron  Z to  go  and    lunch  with  him  at 

Matern's  as  soon  as  I  should  be  examined,  as  though  that 
were  the  merest  trifle  for  me.  When  I  was  called  out 
together  with  Ikonin,  I  straightened  out  the  skirts  of  my 
uniform,  and  in  the  coldest  blood  walked  up  to  the  exam- 
ination table. 

A  light  chill  of  terror  ran  down  my  back  only  when  the 
young  professor,  the  same  that  had  examined  me  at  the 
entrance  examination,  looked  straight  at  me,  and  I  touched 
the  paper  on  which  the  tickets  were  written.  Ikonin, 
who  picked  up  a  ticket  with  tlie  same  swagger  as  he  had 
done  at  the  previous  examinations,  answered  a  thing  or 
two,  though  badly  ;  but  I  did  what  he  had  done  at  his  first 
examinations  —  even  worse,  for  I  took  a  second  ticket,  and 
did  not  answer  even  that.  The  professor  looked  pitifully 
at  me,  and  in  a  quiet,  but  firm  voice  said : 

"  You  will  not  pass  to  the  second  course,  Mr.  Irt^nev. 
You  had  better  not  try  the  other  examinations.  The 
department  has  to  be  cleaned  up.  And  you,  too,  Mr. 
Ikonin,"  he  added. 

Ikonin  asked  permission  to  be  reexamined,  as  a  special 
favour,  but  the  professor  answered  him  that  he  would  not 
be  able  to  do  in  two  days  what  he  had  not  done  in 
the  course  of  a  year,  and  that  he  would  pass  under  no 
conditions,  Ikonin  begged  him  again,  piteously  and 
humbly,  but  the  professor  declined  again. 

"  You  may  go,  gentlemen,"  he  said,  in  the  same  loud, 
but  firm  voice. 

Not  until  then  did  I  decide  to  leave  the  table,  and  I 
felt  ashamed  because  I  had  with  my  silent  presence,  as  it 
were,  taken  part  in  Ikdnin's  humiliating  prayers.  I  do 
not  remember  how  I  crossed  the  hall  past  the  students, 
what  I  answered  to  their  questions,  how  I  walked  out  into 
the  vestibule,  and  how  I  reached  home !  I  was  aggrieved 
and  humihated,  —  I  was  truly  wretched. 


I    FLUNKED  457 

For  three  days  I  did  not  leave  my  room,  saw  nobody, 
sought,  as  in  my  childhood,  consolation  in  tears,  and  wept 
much.  I  looked  for  pistols  with  which  to  shoot  myself, 
if  I  should  make  up  my  mind  to  do  so.  I  thought  Ilinka 
Grap  would  spit  in  my  face  upon  meeting  me,  and  that 
he  would  be  right  in  doing  so  ;  that  Operov  rejoiced  at 
my  misfortune  and  told  everybody  of  it ;  that  Kolpikov 
was  quite  right  when  he  insulted  me  at  Yar's ;  that  my 
stupid  speeches  with  Princess  Kornakov  could  have  had 
no  other  results,  and  so  forth.  All  the  oppressive  mo- 
ments of  my  life,  so  tormenting  to  my  egoism,  passed,  one 
after  another,  through  my  mind ;  I  tried  to  accuse  some 
one  in  particular  of  my  misfortune ;  thought  that  some- 
body had  done  it  on  purpose ;  concocted  a  whole  intrigue 
against  myself ;  murmured  against  the  professors,  against 
my  classmates,  against  Volodya,  against  Dmitri,  and 
against  papa  for  having  sent  me  to  the  university ;  mur- 
mured against  Providence  for  having  permitted  me  to  live 
to  such  a  disgrace.  Finally,  feeling  that  I  was  com- 
pletely undone  in  the  eyes  of  all  those  who  knew  me,  I 
asked  father  to  let  me  become  a  hussar,  or  go  to  the 
Caucasus.  Papa  was  dissatisfied  with  me,  but,  seeing  my 
terrible  grief,  consoled  me,  saying  that,  however  bad  it 
was,  it  might  be  mended  by  my  going  over  into  another  de- 
partment. Volodya,  too,  who  did  not  see  anything  terri- 
ble in  my  misfortune,  said  that  in  another  department  I 
should  at  least  not  have  to  be  ashamed  before  my  new 
classmates. 

Oar  ladies  did  not  understand  at  all,  and  did  not  wish, 
or  were  not  able,  to  understand  what  an  examination  was, 
what  it  meant  to  be  promoted,  and  were  sorry  for  me  only 
because  they  saw  my  grief.  Dmitri  came  to  see  me  every 
day,  and  was  all  the  time  very  kind  and  considerate  of 
me,  but  I  thought  that  for  that  very  reason  he  had  cooled 
off  to  me.  It  always  pained  and  mortified  me  when  he 
came  up-stairs  and  silently  seated  himself  near  me,  with 


458  YOUTH 

something  of  the  expression  with  which  a  physician  sits 
down  on  the  bed  of  a  dangerously  sick  man.  Sofya 
Ivanovna  and  Vareuka  sent  me  through  him  some  books 
which  I  had  desired  to  have,  and  wanted  me  to  come  to 
see  them  ;  but  in  this  very  attention  I  saw  a  haughty, 
offensive  condescension  for  a  man  who  had  fallen  very 
low.  Three  or  four  days  later  I  calmed  down  a  little, 
but  did  not  leave  the  house  until  the  day  of  our  departure 
to  the  country,  and  continued  to  walk  aimlessly  from  one 
I'oom  to  another,  all  the  time  brooding  over  my  sorrow, 
and  trying  to  evade  all  the  people  of  the  house. 

I  thought  and  thought,  and  finally,  late  one  evening, 
when  I  was  down-stairs  all  alone,  and  listening  to  Avdo- 
tya  Vasilevna's  waltz,  I  suddenly  jumped  up,  ran  up-stairs, 
fetched  the  note-book  on  which  was  written  "  Rules  of 
Life,"  opened  it,  and  was  overcome  by  repentance  and 
moral  impulse.  I  burst  out  into  tears,  but  no  longer  tears 
of  repentance.  Having  regained  my  composure,  I  deter- 
mined again  to  write  down  the  rules  of  life,  and  I  was 
convinced  that  I  would  never  again  do  anything  wrong, 
would  never  pass  an  idle  moment,  and  never  be  false  to  my 
rules. 

I  shall  tell  in  the  next,  happier  half  of  my  youth, 
whether  this  moral  impulse  lasted  long,  in  what  it  con- 
sisted, and  what  new  principles  it  furnished  for  my  moral 
development. 


THE     INCURSION 

Story   of  a  Volunteer 
1852 


1 


THE    INCURSION 

Story  of  a  Volunteer 


On  the  12th  of  July  Captain  Khlopov  walked  in 
through  the  low  door  of  my  earth-hut,  wearing  his 
epaulets  and  sabre,  in  which  uniform  I  had  not  seen  him 
since  my  arrival  in  the  Caucasus. 

"  I  am  directly  from  the  colonel,"  he  said,  answering 
the  interrogative  glance  with  which  I  met  him ;  "  to-mor- 
row our  battalion  will  start." 

"Whither?"   I  asked. 

"  To  N .     The  troops  are  to  rendezvous  there." 

"  And  from  there,  I  suppose,  they  will  go  into  action  ? " 

"  No  doubt." 

"  Where  ?     What  do  you  think  ? " 

"  Think  ?  I  tell  you  what  I  know.  Last  night  a  Tartar 
came  galloping  from  the  general,  —  he  brought  an  order 
for  the  battalion  to  move  and  take  two  days'  rations  of 
hardtack  along.  But  where,  why,  how  long,  my  friend, 
that  we  do  not  ask ;  we  are  told  to  go,  and  that  is 
enough." 

"  But  if  you  only  take  two  days'  rations  of  hardtack, 
the  troops  will  not  be  held  there  longer,  it  seems," 

"  Well,  that  does  not  mean  anything  yet  —  " 

"  How  so  ? "  I  asked,  in  astonishment. 

461 


i62  THE    INCURSION 

"  Just  so !  When  they  went  to  Dargi  they  took  hard- 
tack for  a  week,  and  stayed  almost  a  month." 

"  Shall  I  be  allowed  to  go  with  you  ?  "  I  asked,  after  a 
moment's  silence. 

"  I  suppose  there  will  be  no  objection,  but  my  advice  is 
not  to  go.     What  is  the  use  risking  —  " 

"  No,  you  must  permit  me  not  to  take  your  adyice ;  I 
have  been  living  a  whole  month  here  only  to  get  a  chance 
to  see  an  action, —  and  you  want  me  to  miss  it." 

"  All  right,  go ;  only,  really,  do  you  not  think  you  had 
better  stay  ?  You  might  wait  for  us  here,  and  go  out 
hunting  in  the  meantime ;  and  we  should  go  with  God's 
aid.  It  would  be  fine  ! "  he  said,  in  such  a  persuasive  tone 
that  in  the  first  moment  it  really  appeared  to  me  to  be 
fine ;  but  I  said  with  firmness  that  I  would  not  stay  for 
anything. 

"  What  is  it  you  have  not  seen  there  ? "  the  captain 
continued  to  persuade  me.  "  Do  you  want  to  find  out 
what  battles  are  like  ?  Eead  Mikhaylovski-Danil^vski's 
'  Description  of  War ; '  it  is  a  fine  book :  he  describes 
there  in  detail  where  every  corps  is  put,  and  how  the 
battle  takes  place."    . 

"  On  the  contrary,  that  does  not  interest  me,"  I 
answered. 

"  Well,  then  what  ?  You  just  want  to  see,  I  suppose, 
how  people  are  killed  ?  Now,  in  1832  there  was  a  certain 
gentleman  here.  I  think  he  was  a  Spaniard.  He  took 
part  in  two  expeditions  with  us,  wearing  some  kind  of 
a  blue  uniform ;  the  lad  was  killed.  You  can't  astonish 
anybody  here,  my  friend." 

However  annoyed  I  was  because  the  captain  so  badly 
interpreted  my  intention,  I  did  not  attempt  to  disillusion 
him. 

"  Was  he  a  brave  fellow  ?  "  I  asked  him. 

"  God  knows !  He  insisted  on  riding  in  the  van ; 
wherever  there  was  an  eugasement  he  was  sure  to  be." 


THE    INCURSION  463 

"  Then  he  was  brave,"  I  said. 

"  No,  it  does  not  mean  bravery  to  push  yourself  for- 
ward where  you  are  not  wanted  —  " 

"  What  do  you  call  bravery  ?  " 

"  Bravery  ?  bravery  ?  "  repeated  the  captain,  with  the 
mien  of  a  man  to  whom  such  a  question  is  put  for  the 
first  time.  "  Brave  is  he  who  acts  as  is  proper,"  he  said, 
after  a  moment's  thought. 

I  recalled  that  Plato  defined  bravery  as  the  knowledge 
of  what  one  ought  to  fear  and  what  not,  and,  in  spite  of 
the  generality  and  obscurity  in  the  captain's  definition,  I 
considered  that  the  fundamental  thought  of  both  was  not 
so  different  as  might  appear,  and  that  the  definition  of 
the  captain  was  even  more  correct  than  that  of  the  Greek 
philosopher,  because  if  he  could  have  expressed  himself 
like  Plato,  he  no  doubt  would  have  said  that  he  is  brave 
who  is  afraid  only  of  what  one  ought  to  be  afraid  of,  and 
not  of  that  which  one  should  not  fear. 

I  wanted  to  explain  my  idea  to  the  captain. 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  "  it  seems  to  me  that  in  every  danger 
there  is  a  choice,  and  the  choice  made,  for  example,  under 
the  influence  of  the  feeling  of  duty  is  bravery,  and  the 
choice  made  under  the  influence  of  a  base  feeling  is 
cowardice ;  therefore,  a  man  cannot  be  called  brave  who 
risks  his  life  out  of  vanity,  or  curiosity  or  greed ;  on  the 
other  hand,  a  man  cannot  be  called  a  coward  who  declines 
a  danger  under  the  influence  of  an  honest  feeling  of 
domestic  obligation  or  simply  from  conviction." 

The  captain  looked  at  me  with  a  strange  expression  all 
the  time  I  was  speaking. 

"  I  do  not  know  how  to  prove  that  to  you,"  he  said, 
filling  his  pipe,  "  but  we  have  here  a  lieutenant  who  likes 
to  philosophize.  You  talk  with  him.  He  writes  poetry, 
too." 

I  had  become  acquainted  with  the  captain  in  the  Cau- 
casus, but  had  known  of  him  before  in  Kussia.      His 


464  THE    INCURSION 

mother,  Marya  Ivanovna  Khlopov,  a  small  landed  propri- 
etress, was  living  two  versts  from  my  estate.  I  had  been 
at  her  house  before  my  departure  for  the  Caucasus.  The 
old  woman  was  very  happy  to  hear  that  I  should  see  her 
Pashenka  (so  she  called  the  gray-haired  old  captain),  and, 
being  a  living  epistle,  should  be  able  to  tell  him  about 
her  life  and  transmit  a  package  to  him.  Having  treated 
me  to  excellent  pastry  and  goose-meat,  Marya  Ivanovna 
went  into  her  sleeping-room  and  returned  with  a  black, 
fairly  large  amulet,  to  which  was  attached  a  black  silk 
ribbon. 

"  This  is  Our  Mother,  the  Protectress  of  the  P^urning 
Bush,"  she  said,  making  the  sign  of  the  cross  and  kissing 
the  image  of  the  Holy  Virgin,  and  handed  it  over  to  me. 
"  Do  me  the  favour,  my  dear  sir,  and  try  to  get  it  to  him. 
You  see,  when  he  went  to  the  Caucasus  I  had  mass  cele- 
brated, and  made  a  vow  I  would  order  this  image  of  the 
Holy  Virgin,  if  he  should  be  hale  and  unharmed.  The 
Protectress  and  the  holy  saints  have  preserved  him  these 
eighteen  years :  he  has  not  been  wounded  once,  and  yet 
he  has  been  in  all  kinds  of  battles !  As  Mikhaylo,  who 
has  been  with  him,  told  me,  it  is  enough  to  make  one's 
hair  stand  on  end,  you  know.  All  I  know  of  him  is  from 
strangers :  he,  my  dove,  does  not  write  a  word  to  me 
about  his  expeditions,  —  he  is  afraid  he  would  frighten 
me." 

Only  in  the  Caucasus  I  learned,  but  not  from  the  cap- 
tain, that  he  had  been  severely  wounded  four  times,  and 
naturally  he  had  written  nothing  to  his  mother  about  the 
expeditions,  no  more  than  about  the  wounds. 

"  So  let  him  wear  this  holy  image,"  she  continued.  "  I 
bless  him  with  it.  The  All-holy  Protectress  will  defend 
him !  Particularly  in  battles  let  him  always  have  it  on. 
Just  tell  him,  sir,  that  his  mother  orders  him  to  do  so." 

I  promised  to  transmit  her  exact  message. 

"I  know  you  will  like  him,  my  Pashenka,"  the   old 


THE   INCURSION  465 

womau  continued.  "  He  is  just  a  fine  fellow  !  Will  you 
believe  it,  not  a  year  passes  without  his  sending  nie  some 
money,  and  he  helps  liberally  my  daughter,  Annushka ; 
and  all  that  comes  out  of  his  salary !  I  truly  praise  the 
Lord  all  my  life,"  she  concluded,  with  tears  in  her  eyes, 
"  for  having  given  me  such  a  child." 

"  Does  he  write  you  often  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  But  rarely,  my  dear  sir :  about  once  a  year,  and  tlien 
only  when  he  sends  the  money,  so  he  adds  a  word,  and 
sometimes  not.  '  If,'  says  he, '  I  do  not  write  you,  mother, 
you  know  I  am  well  and  alive  ;  and  if  anything  should 
happen,  the  Lord  prevent  it,  they  will  let  you  know  with- 
out me.' " 

When  I  gave  the  captain  his  mother's  present  (that 
happened  in  my  quarters),  he  asked  for  a  piece  of  wrap- 
ping-paper, carefully  wrapped  it,  and  put  it  away.  I  told 
him  a  good  deal  about  the  details  of  his  mother's  life  :  the 
captain  was  silent.  When  I  was  through,  he  went  into 
the  corner,  and  was  uncommonly  long  in  filling  his 
pipe. 

"  Yes,  a  fine  old  woman  ! "  he  said  from  there,  in  a 
somewhat  dull  voice,  "  I  wonder  whether  God  will  let  me 
see  her  once  more." 

In  these  simple  words  were  expressed  very  much  love 
and  sorrow. 

"  Why  do  you  serve  here  ? "  I  said. 

"  I  have  to  serve,"  he  answered  with  conviction.  "  You 
know  double  pay  means  a  great  deal  for  a  poor  fellow 
like  me." 

The  captain  lived  frugally ;  he  did  not  play  cards, 
rarely  caroused,  and  smoked  common  tobacco,  which  he, 
no  one  knew  why,  called  "  Sambrotalik  "  tobacco.  I  had 
taken  a  liking  to  the  captain  ere  this :  he  had  one  of 
those  simple,  quiet  Eussian  countenances,  into  the  eyes 
of  which  it  is  pleasant  and  easy  to  look  straight ;  but 
after  this  chat  I  felt  a  genuine   respect  for  him. 


II. 

At  four  o'clock  in  the  morning,  on  the  following  day, 
the  captain  came  after  me.  He  was  dressed  in  an  old, 
worn-out  coat  without  epaulets,  Lezgian  broad  pantaloons, 
a  white  fur  cap,  with  its  hair  turned  yellow  and  uncurl- 
ing, and  an  unsightly  Asiatic  sabre  over  his  shoulder. 
The  white  pony  on  which  he  rode  walked  with  drooping 
head,  in  a  slow  amble,  and  continually  switching  his 
scanty  tail.  Though  the  figure  of  the  good  captain  was 
not  very  soldierly,  and  was  even  unattractive,  there  was 
expressed  in  it  so  much  indifference  to  everything  sur- 
rounding him,  that  it  inspired  involuntary  respect. 

I  did  not  keep  him  waiting  even  a  minute,  immediately 
mounted  my  horse,  and  we  rode  out  together  beyond  the 
gate  of  the  fortress. 

The  battalion  was  some  fifteen  hundred  feet  ahead  of 
us,  and  appeared  a  black,  solid,  waving  mass.  One  could 
guess  that  it  was  infantry  from  the  fact  that  the  bayonets 
could  be  seen  like  a  forest  of  long  needles,  and  now  and 
then  we  heard  the  sounds  of  a  soldier  song,  of  the  drum, 
and  of  the  superb  tenor  of  tlie  singer  of  Company  Six, 
which  I  had  greatly  enjoyed  in  the  fortress.  The  road 
lay  through  the  middle  of  a  deep  and  broad  ravine, 
along  the  bank  of  a  small  river,  which  at  that  time  was 
"  playing,"  that  is,  overrunning  its  banks.  Flocks  of  wild 
pigeons  circled  near  it ;  they  now  alighted  on  the  stony 
bank,  now,  turning  around  in  the  air,  and  making  large 
circles,  disappeared  from  sight.  The  sun  was  not  yet  to 
be  seen,  but  the  higher  places  on  the  right  of  the  ravine 

466 


THE   INCURSION  467 

were  beginning  to  be  illuminated.  The  gray  and  whitish 
rocks,  the  yellowish  green  moss,  the  dew-drenched  bushes 
of  the  holly,  the  medlar,  and  the  buckthorn  were  defined 
with  extraordinary  clearness  and  relief  in  the  transparent 
golden  light  of  the  east ;  but  the  other  side,  and  the  hollow, 
which  was  covered  with  a  dense  mist  that  wavered  in 
smoky,  uneven  layers,  were  damp  and  gloomy,  and  repre- 
sented an  indefinable  mixture  of  colours,  pale  violet, 
almost  black,  dark  green,  and  white.  Eight  in  front  of 
us,  against  the  deep  azure  of  the  horizon,  were  seen  with 
striking  clearness  the  glaringly  white,  dull  masses  of  the 
snow-capped  mountains,  with  their  fantastic,  but  minutely 
exquisite,  shadows  and  contours.  Crickets,  grasshoppers, 
and  thousands  of  other  insects  were  awake  in  the  tall 
grass,  and  filled  the  air  with  their  sharp,  uninterrupted 
sounds :  it  seemed  as  though  an  endless  number  of  the 
tiniest  bells  were  jingling  in  your  ears.  The  air  was 
redolent  with  the  water,  the  gi^ass,  and  the  mist  —  in 
short,  redolent  with  an  early,  beautiful  summer  morning. 
The  captain  struck  fire,  and  lighted  his  pipe ;  the  odour 
of  the  Sambrotalik  tobacco  and  the  tinder  seemed 
unusually  pleasant  to  me. 

We  rode  at  the  side  of  the  road,  in  order  to  catch  up 
with  the  infantry  as  quickly  as  possible.  The  captain 
seemed  more  pensive  than  usual,  did  not  let  his  Daghestan 
pipe  for  a  moment  out  of  his  mouth,  and  at  every  step 
urged  on  with  his  heels  his  pony,  which,  waddKng  from 
side  to  side,  made  a  barely  perceptible,  dark  green  track 
over  the  tall,  damp  grass.  From  under  his  very  feet  a 
pheasant  flew  up,  with  its  peculiar  call,  and  with  that 
noise  of  the  wing  which  makes  a  hunter  tremble  with 
involuntary  excitement,  and  slowly  rose  in  the  air.  The 
captain  did  not  pay  the  least  attention  to  it. 

We  caught  up  with  the  battalion,  when  behind  us  was 
heard  the  tramp  of  a  galloping  horse,  and  immediately  a 
handsome,  youthful  man,  in  the  coat  of  an  officer  and  a 


468  THE    INCURSION 

tall  fur  cap,  passed  by  us.  When  he  lined  up  with  us,  he 
smiled,  nodded  to  the  captain,  and  swung  his  whip — I 
had  time  only  to  observe  that  he  sat  in  his  saddle  and 
held  the  bridle  with  extreme  grace,  and  that  he  had 
beautiful  black  eyes,  a  delicate  nose,  and  a  barely  sprout- 
ing moustache.  I  was  particularly  pleased  with  his 
smile  when  he  saw  us  admiring  him.  From  this  smile 
alone  I  could  judge  that  he  was  very  young. 

"  Where  does  he  gallop  to  ? "  mumbled  the  captain, 
with  a  dissatisfied  countenance,  without  taking  the  pipe 
out  of  his  mouth. 

"  Who  is  he  ?  "  I  asked  him. 

"  Ensign  Alanin,  a  subaltern  of  my  company,  —  he 
came  last  month  only  from  the  military  school." 

"  I  suppose  he  is  going  for  the  first  time  into  action,"  I 
said. 

"  That's  what  makes  him  so  awfully  happy  !  "  answered 
the  captain,  thoughtfully  shaking  his  hepd.     "  Oh,  youth  !  " 

"  But  why  should  he  not  be  happy  ?  I  know  that  for  a 
young  officer  that  must  be  very  interesting." 
,  The  captain  was  silent  for  two  or  three  minutes. 

"  That's  why  I  say,  Oh,  youth  ! "  he  continued  in  a  bass 
voice.  "  It  is  easy  enough  to  be  happy  before  having 
seen  anything  !  You  don't  feel  quite  so  happy  after  a  few 
expeditions.  There  are  now  some  twenty  officers  in  this 
expedition ;  somebody  or  other  is  going  to  be  killed,  or 
wounded,  so  much  is  certain.  To-day  I,  to-morrow  he, 
day  after  to-morrow  somebody  else,  —  then  why  not  be 
happy  ? " 


III. 

The  bright  sun  had  scarcely  issued  from  behind  a 
mountain,  and  begun  to  light  up  the  valley  over  which 
we  were  marching,  when  the  billowing  clouds  of  mist  were 
dispersed,  and  it  grew  warm.  The  soldiers,  with  their  guns 
and  sacks  upon  their  shoulders,  were  marching  slowly  on 
the  dusty  road ;  in  the  ranks  could  be  heard  from  time  to 
time  Little-Eussian  conversation,  and  laughter.  A  few  old 
soldiers,  in  linen  blouses,  —  mostly  sergeants,  —  walked, 
smoking,  at  one  side  of  the  road,  and  carried  on  a  sober 
conversation.  Three-horse  carts,  laden  to  the  top,  moved 
in  slow  step,  and  raised  a  dense,  immovable  cloud  of  dust. 
The  officers  rode  on  horseback  in  front :  some,  as  they  say 
in  the  Caucasus,  dzhigitted,  that  is,  striking  their  horses 
with  their  whips,  made  them  take  four  or  five  leaps,  after 
which  they  checked  them  abruptly,  and  made  them  turn 
their  heads  back ;  others  were  interested  in  the  singers, 
who,  in  spite  of  the  oppressive  heat,  gave  one  song  after 
another,  without  interruption. 

About  two  hundred  yards  in  front  of  the  infantry,  rode 
on  a  large  white  horse  a  tall  and  handsome  officer  in  an 
Asiatic  dress,  surrounded  by  Tartars  on  horseback  ;  he  was 
known  in  the  regiment  as  a  desperately  brave  fellow  and 
as  one  who  would  blurt  out  the  truth  to  a  man's  face, 
whoever  he  might  be.  He  was  dressed  in  a  black  Tartar 
half-coat  with  galloons,  similar  leggings,  new,  tightly  fitting 
shoes  with  trimmings,  a  yellow  mantle,  and  a  tall  fur  cap 
poised  on  the  back  of  his  head.  On  his  breast  and  back 
were  silver  galloons,  to  which  were  attached  the  cartridge- 

469 


470  THE   INCURSION 

pouch  in  front,  and  a  pistol  behind  ;  another  pistol  and  a 
poniard  set  in  silver  hung  down  from  his  belt.  Above  all 
this  he  was  girded  with  a  sabre  in  a  red  morocco  leather 
sheath,  and  over  his  shoulder  was  slung  a  musket  in  a  black 
case. 

From  his  dress,  poise,  carriage,  and,  in  general,  from  all 
his  movements,  it  was  evident  that  he  tried  to  look  like  a 
Tartar.  He  even  spoke  in  a  language  that  I  did  not  know 
to  the  Tartars  who  were  riding  with  him  ;  but  from  the 
perplexed  and  derisive  glances  which  they  cast  at  each 
other,  I  concluded  that  they  did  not  understand  him 
either.  He  was  one  of  our  young  officers,  dzhigit-braves, 
who  form  their  ideas  from  Marliuski  and  L(5rmoutov. 
These  people  look  upon  the  Caucasus  only  through  the 
prism  of  the  "  Heroes  of  Our  Time,"  of  MuUa-Nur,  and  so 
forth,  and  in  all  their  actions  are  guided  not  by  tlieir  own 
inclinations,  but  by  the  example  of  these  heroes. 

The  lieutenant  may  have  been  fond  of  the  society  of 
refined  women  and  distinguished  me)\  — generals,  colonels, 
adjutants,  —  I  am  even  convinced  that  he  was  very  fond 
of  this  society,  because  he  was  exceeding  vain,  but  he 
considered  it  his  absolute  duty  to  turn  out  his  rough  side 
to  all  distinguished  people,  though  he  was  but  moder- 
ately impertinent  to  them  ;  and  when  a  lady  appeared  in 
the  fortress,  he  regarded  it  as  his  duty  to  pass  under  her 
window  with  his  chums,  dressed  in  nothing  but  a  red 
shirt  and  his  shoes  on  his  bare  feet,  and  to  cry  and  curse 
at  the  top  of  his  voice,  not  so  much  in  order  to  insult  her 
as  to  show  her  what  beautiful  white  feet  he  had,  and  how 
it  would  be  possible  to  fall  in  love  with  him  if  he 
wanted  it. 

Or,  he  would  frequently  go  in  the  night  with  two  or 
three  peaceable  Tartars  into  the  mountains,  in  order  to  lie 
in  ambush  for  and  kill  hostile  Tartars,  although  his  heart 
told  him  more  than  once  that  there  was  no  bravery  in 
that;  he  regarded  it  as  his  duty  to  make  people  suffer 


THE    INCURSION  471 

in  whom  he  pretended  to  be  disappointed,  or  whom 
he  thought  he  had  to  scorn  or  hate.  He  never  took 
off  two  things  from  his  body  :  a  large  image  which  hung 
from  his  neck,  and  a  poniard  above  his  shirt,  with 
which  he  even  lay  down  to  sleep.  He  was  sincerely  con- 
vinced that  he  had  enemies.  It  was  his  greatest  delight 
to  persuade  himself  that  he  had  to  wreak  vengeance  on 
somebody  and  wash  out  an  insult  with  blood.  He  was 
convinced  that  hatred,  vengeance,  and  contempt  for  the 
human  race  were  the  most  elevated,  most  poetical  of  senti- 
ments. But  his  mistress,  a  Circassian  woman,  of  course, 
whom  I  had  occasion  to  meet,  told  me  that  he  was  a  very 
kind  and  mild  man,  and  that  every  evening  he  wrote  his 
gloomy  memoirs,  cast  his  accounts  on  lined  paper,  and, 
kneeling,  prayed  to  God. 

How  much  he  had  suffered  in  order  to  appear  to  himself 
what  he  had  set  out  to  be,  because  his  companions  and  the 
soldiers  could  not  understand  him  as  he  wished  !  Once, 
durhig  his  nightly  expeditions  on  the  road  with  his  chums, 
he  happened  to  wound  a  hostile  Chechen  wdth  a  bullet  in 
the  leg,  and  to  take  him  prisoner.  This  Chechen  afterward 
lived  for  seven  weeks  with  the  lieutenant,  and  the  lieutenant 
took  care  of  him  and  attended  to  him,  as  if  he  were  his 
nearest  friend,  and  when  he  was  cured,  the  lieutenant  sent 
him  away  with  gifts.  Afterward,  the  lieutenant  happened 
during  an  expedition  to  have  wandered  away  from  the 
cordon  ;  while  he  was  returning  the  fire  of  the  enemy,  he 
heard  some  one  call  him  by  name,  and  his  wounded  Tartar 
friend  rode  out  and  invited  the  lieutenant  with  signs  to  do 
the  same.  The  lieutenant  rode  up  to  his  friend,  and  shook 
hands  with  him.  The  mountaineers  stood  aloof,  and  did 
not  shoot ;  but  the  moment  the  lieutenant  wheeled  his 
horse  around,  a  few  men  shot  at  him,  and  one  bullet 
grazed  him  below  the  spine.  Upon  another  occasion  I 
saw,  at  night,  a  conflagration  in  the  fortress,  and  two  com- 
panies of  soldiers  were  trying  to  put  it  out.    In  the  crowd. 


472  THE    INCURSION 

which  was  illuminated  by  the  blood-red  glare  of  the  fire, 
suddenly  appeared  a  tall  figure  on  a  jet-black  horse.  The 
figure  pushed  the  crowd  aside,  and  rode  up  to  the  very  fire. 
When  the  lieutenant  came  close  to  it,  he  leaped  from  his 
horse  and  rushed  into  the  house  that  was  burning  in  one 
corner.  Five  minutes  later  the  lieutenant  came  out  from 
it  with  singed  hair  and  a  burn  on  his  elbow,  carrying  in 
his  bosom  two  young  doves  which  he  had  saved  from  the 
fire. 

His  name  was  Eosenkranz ;  he  frequently  spoke  of  his 
genealogy,  in  some  way  or  other  deducing  it  from  the 
Varengians,  and  proved  conclusively  that  he  and  his 
ancestors  had  been  pure  Russians. 


IV. 

The  sun  had  passed  half  of  its  journey,  and  cast  its  hot 
rays  across  the  heated  air  upon  the  parched  earth.  The 
dark  blue  sky  was  entirely  clear ;  only  the  bases  of  the 
snow-capped  mountains  were  beginning  to  be  clothed  in 
pale  violet  clouds.  The  motionless  air  seemed  to  be  filled 
with  a  transparent  dust  ;  it  grew  intolerably  hot.  Having 
reached  a  small  stream,  which  crossed  the  road,  the  army 
halted.  The  soldiers  stacked  their  arms,  and  plunged 
into  the  brook ;  the  commander  of  the  battalion  sat  down 
in  the  shade  on  a  drum,  and,  expressing  in  his  full  face 
the  degree  of  his  rank,  was  getting  ready  to  lunch  with 
several  of  the  officers ;  the  captain  lay  down  in  the  grass 
under  the  company's  cart ;  brave  Lieutenant  Eosenkranz 
and  a  few  younger  officers  spread  out  their  felt  mantles, 
and,  seating  themselves  upon  them,  began  to  carouse,  as 
could  be  seen  from  the  display  of  flagons  and  bottles  all 
about  them,  and  from  the  extraordinary  animation  of  the 
singers  who  stood  before  them  in  a  semicircle,  and  in  a 
piping  voice  imitated  a  Lezgian  girl  singing  a  Caucasian 
dancing-song : 

"  Shamil  started  a  rebellion 
In  the  years  gone  by  — 
Tray-ray,  ra-ta-tay  — 
In  the  years  gone  by." 

Among  the  number  of  these  officers  was  also  the  youth- 
ful ensign  who  had  caught  up  with  us  in  the  morning. 
He  was  very  funny :  his  eyes  were  sparkling,  his  tongue 

473 


474  THE    INCURSION 

was  a  little  heavy ;  he  wanted  to  kiss  everybody,  aud 
make  love  to  them.  Poor  boy !  He  did  not  know  that 
he  might  appear  ridiculous  by  such  actions ;  that  his 
frankness  and  tenderness,  with  which  he  annoyed  the 
others,  would  lead  the  others,  not  to  love  him,  which  he 
was  striving  for,  but  to  ridicule  him ;  nor  did  he  know 
that  when  he,  heated  up,  at  last  threw  himself  down  on 
the  mantle  aud,  leaning  on  his  arm,  threw  back  his  thick 
black  hair,  he  was  uncommonly  handsome. 

Two  officers  were  seated  under  a  cart  and  played  "  Old 
Maid  "  on  a  hamper. 

I  listened  with  curiosity  to  the  conversations  of  the 
soldiers  and  officers,  and  attentively  watched  the  expres- 
sion of  their  faces,  but  not  in  one  of  them  was  I  able  to 
observe  even  a  shadow  of  that  restlessness  which  I  myself 
was  experiencing :  the  jokes,  the  laughter,  and  the  stories 
expressed  a  general  carelessness  and  indifference  to  the 
impending  danger,  as  though  it  would  be  preposterous  to 
suppose  that  some  of  them  would  never  return  along  this 
road ! 


V. 

Aftek  six  o'clock  in  the  evening  we  entered,  dusty  acd 

tired,  through  the  broad,  fortified  gate  of  Fort  N .    The 

sun  was  setting  and  cast  its  slanting,  rose-coloured  rays 
on  the  picturesque  little  batteries  and  on  the  gardens 
with  their  tall  poplars,  which  surrounded  the  fort,  on  the 
ripening  fields,  and  on  the  white  clouds  which,  crowding 
together  near  the  snow-capped  mountains,  as  if  to  imitate 
them,  formed  a  not  less  fantastic  and  beautiful  chaiu.  A 
young  half-moon  was  visible  in  the  horizon,  resembling  a 
transparent  cloud.  In  the  village  which  nestled  near  the 
gate,  a  Tartar  on  the  roof  of  a  hut  was  calling  the  faithful 
to  prayer.  The  singers  burst  forth  with  new  abandon- 
ment and    energy. 

After  resting  and  making  my  toilet  I  went  to  an  adju- 
tant who  was  an  acquaintance  of  mine,  and  asked  him  to 
report  my  intentions  to  the  general.  On  my  way  from 
the  suburb  where  I  lodged,  I  noticed  something  in  the 
fortress  which  I  had  least  expected.  A  fine-looking,  two- 
seated  carriage,  in  which  I  saw  a  fashionable  bonnet  and 
heard  a  French  conversation,  passed  by  me.  From  the 
open  window  of  the  commandant's  house  were  borne  the 
sounds  of  a  "  Lizanka  "  or  "  Katenka  "  polka,  played  on  a 
wretched  piano,  out  of  tune.  A  few  scribes  were  sitting, 
with  cigarettes  in  their  hands,  over  glasses  of  wine,  in  the 
inn  by  which  I  had  just  passed,  and  I  heard  one  telling 
the  other :  "  Now,  permit  me,  when  it  comes  to  politics, 
Marya  Grigorevna   is  a  first-class    lady."      A  Jew  with 

475 


476  THE    INCURSION 

stooping  shoulders  and  sickly  countenance,  dressed  in  a 
threadbare  coat,  dragged  along  a  squeaking,  broken  hand- 
organ,  and  over  the  whole  suburb  were  borne  the  sounds 
of  the  finale  from  "  Lucia."  Two  women,  in  rustling  gar- 
ments, wrapped  in  silk  kerchiefs,  and  with  brightly  col- 
oured parasols  in  their  hands,  sailed  by  me  on  the  board 
sidewalk.  Two  maidens,  one  in  a  pink,  the  other  in  a 
blue  dress,  with  bare  heads,  stood  near  the  mound  of 
a  small  house,  and  burst  out  in  a  forced,  subdued  laugh, 
with  the  evident  purpose  of  attracting  the  attention  of  the 
officers  who  passed  by.  The  officers,  in  new  coats,  white 
gloves,  and  shining  epaulets,  paraded  in  the  streets  and 
in  the  boulevard. 

I  found  my  acquaintance  in  the  lower  story  of  the 
general's  house.  I  had  just  explained  my  wish  to  him, 
and  he  had  told  me  that  it  was  very  likely  it  would  be 
fulfilled,  —  when  the  fine  carriage,  which  I  had  noticed  at 
the  entrance,  rumbled  by  the  window  where  we  were  sit- 
ting. A  tall,  stately  gentleman  in  the  uniform  of  the 
infantry,  with  the  epaulets  of  a  major,  came  out  of  the 
carriage,  and  went  up  to  the  general. 

*'  Oh,  pardon  me,  if  you  please,"  said  the  adjutant  to 
me,  rising  from  his  seat,  "  1  must  announce  him  to  the 
general." 

"  AVho  is  it  that  has  arrived  ? "  I  asked  him. 

*'  The  countess,"  he  answered,  and  buttoning  up  his 
uniform,  rushed  up-stairs. 

A  few  minutes  later,  a  rather  small,  but  very  handsome 
man,  with  a  white  cross  in  his  buttonhole,  came  out  of 
the  entrance.  He  was  followed  by  the  major,  the  adju- 
tant, and  two  other  officers.  In  the  gait,  the  voice,  and 
all  the  movements  of  the  general  could  be  seen  a  man 
who  was  well  aware  of  his  high  importance. 

"Bonsoir,  Madame  la  Comtesse"  he  said,  putting  his 
hand  through  the  carriage  window. 

A  little  hand  in  a  dogskin  glove  pressed  his  hand,  and 


THE    INCURSION  477 

a  pretty,  smiling  face  in  a  yellow  bonnet  appeared  in  the 
window. 

Of  the  whole  conversation,  which  lasted  several  min- 
utes, I  heard  only,  as  I  passed,  the  general  say,  smiling : 

"  Vous  savez,  que  fai  fait  voeu  de  comhattre  les  infideles, 
prenez  done  garde  de  le  devenir." 

Laughter  was  heard  in  the  carriage. 

"  Adieu  done,  clier  gemral  !  " 

"  Non,  b,  revoir,"  said  the  general,  walking  up  the  steps, 
"  n'ouhliez  pas,  que  je  m'invite  jpour  la  soiree  de  deriiain." 

The  carriage  rattled  away. 

"  Here  is  a  man,"  I  thought,  returning  home,  "  who 
has  everything  a  Eussian  strives  for :  rank,  wealth,  dis- 
tinction, —  and  this  man,  before  the  battle,  of  which  only 
God  knows  the  outcome,  is  jesting  with  a  pretty  woman, 
and  promising  her  to  take  tea  with  her  on  the  morrow, 
as  though  he  had  just  met  her  at  a  ball ! " 

At  this  adjutant's  I  met  a  man  who  surprised  me  even 

more  :  it  was  a  young  lieutenant  of  K Eegiment,  who 

was  distinguished  for  his  almost  feminine  gentleness  and 
timidity,  and  who  had  come  to  the  adjutant  to  pour 
out  his  anger  and  annoyance  upon  the  people  who,  he 
thought,  had  intrigued  against  him  so  as  to  keep  him 
from  an  appointment  in  the  impending  action.  He  said 
it  was  contemptible  to  act  thus,  that  it  was  not  at  all 
friendly  to  act  so,  that  he  would  remember  him,  and 
so  forth.  However  much  I  watched  the  expression  of 
his  face,  however  much  I  listened  to  the  sound  of  his 
voice,  I  could  not  help  convincing  myself  that  he  was 
not  dissembhng  in  the  least,  but  was  really  provoked  and 
aggrieved  because  he  was  not  allowed  to  go  to  shoot  Cir- 
cassians and  expose  himself  to  their  fire;  he  was  as 
aggrieved  as  is  a  child  who  is  unjustly  whipped.  I  was 
absolutely  unable  to  understand  the  tiling. 


VI. 

The  army  was  to  move  at  ten  o'clock  in  the  evening. 
At  half-past  eight  I  mounted  my  horse,  and  rode  to  the 
general's  house;  but  surmising  that  he  and  his  adjutant 
were  busy,  I  stopped  in  the  street,  tied  my  horse  to  a 
fence,  and  sat  down  on  a  mound,  expecting  to  overtake 
the  general  as  soon  as  he  should  ride  out. 

The  glare  and  heat  of  the  sun  had  given  way  to  the 
coolness  of  the  night  and  to  the  dim  light  of  the  young 
moon,  which  was  beginning  to  set,  forming  about  itself 
a  pale,  semicircular  halo  against  the  deep  azure  of  the 
starry  heavens ;  lights  appeared  in  the  windows  of  houses 
and  in  the  chinks  of  the  shutters  in  the  earth-huts.  The 
stately  poplars  of  the  gardens,  which  were  visible  against 
the  horizon  beyond  the  whitewashed,  moonlit  earth-huts 
with  their  reed-thatched  roofs,  seemed  taller  and  blacker. 

The  long  shadows  of  the  houses,  the  trees,  and  the 
fences  fell  picturesquely  on  the  illuminated,  dusty  road. 
The  frogs  dinned  ^  incessantly  in  the  river ;  in  the  streets 
were  heard,  now  hasty  steps  and  conversation,  now  the 
galloping  of  a  horse;  from  the  suburb  now  and  then 
the  sound  of  a  hand-organ  reached  me ;  now  it  was  "  The 
winds  are  blowing,"  now  some  "  Aurora-Walzer." 

I  will  not  tell  what  I  was  pondering  over ;  in  the  first 
place,  I  should  be  ashamed  to  confess  the  gloomy  thoughts 
that  oppressed  my  soul  with  obtrusive  alternation,  wliile 
all  about  me  I  saw  nothing  but  mirth  and  joy ;  and,  in 

iTlio  sound  of  the  fro<js  in  the  Caucasus  has  nothing  in  common 
wiih  the  croaking  of  Russian  frocs.  — Author's  Note. 

478 


THE    INCURSION  479 

the  second  place,  because  that  does  not  fit  mto  my  story. 
I  was  so  merged  iu  meditation  that  I  did  not  even  notice 
the  bell  striking  eleven,  and  the  general  passing  by  me 
with  all  his  suite. 

The  rear-guard  was  still  in  the  gate  of  the  fortress. 
I  made  my  way  with  difficulty  over  the  bridge,  that 
was  crowded  with  cannon,  caissons,  company  wagons, 
and  officers  noisily  giving  their  orders.  After  leaving  the 
gate,  I  galloped  beyond  the  army  that  silently  moved  in 
the  darkness,  nearly  a  verst  in  extent,  and  overtook  the 
general.  As  I  passed  by  the  artillery,  with  their  ordnance 
in  single  file,  and  the  officers  riding  between  the  ordnance, 
my  ear  was  struck,  amidst  a  silent  and  solemn  harmony, 
by  the  offensive  dissonance  of  a  German  voice,  calhng, 
"  Satan,  hand  me  the  linstock ! "  and  the  voice  of  a 
soldier,  hurriedly  cryhig,  "  Shevch^nko,  the  lieutenant  is 
asking  for  some  fire  !  " 

The  greater  part  of  the  sky  was  covered  with  long, 
dark  gray  thunder-clouds  ;  only  here  and  there  stars  shone 
dimly  between  them.  The  moon  was  hidden  behind  the 
near  horizon  of  the  black  mountains,  which  were  to  be 
seen  on  the  right,  and  cast  a  weak,  quivering  half-light 
against  their  summits,  which  sharply  contrasted  with  the 
impenetrable  darkness  that  covered  their  bases.  The 
air  was  warm  and  so  calm  that  not  a  blade  of  grass,  not 
a  cloud  seemed  to  be  in  motion.  It  was  so  dark  that 
it  was  impossible  to  tell  objects  at  very  close  range ; 
along  th'^  road  I  imagined  now  rocks,  now  animals,  now 
some  strange  people,  and  I  discovered  them  to  be  bushes 
when  I  heard  their  rustling,  or  felt  the  freshness  of  the 
dew  with  which  they  were  covered.  Before  me  I  saw 
a  dense,  undulating,  black  wall,  behind  which  followed  a 
few  moving  spots  ;  those  were  the  vanguard  of  the  cavalry, 
and  the  general  with  his  suite.  About  us  moved  just 
such  a  gloomy  mass,  but  it  was  lower  than  the  first ;  it 
was  the  infantry. 


480  THE   INCURSION 

In  the  whole  detachment  reigned  such  quiet  that  all 
the  harmonious  sounds  of  the  night,  full  of  mysterious 
charm,  were  clearly  audible ;  the  distant,  moaning  howl 
of  the  jackals,  resembhng  now  a  wail  of  despair,  now  a 
burst  of  laughter ;  the  sonorous,  monotonous  songs  of  the 
crickets,  the  frogs,  and  the  quails ;  a  roar  which  was  ever 
coming  nearer,  and  the  cause  of  which  I  was  unable  to 
explain  to  myself ;  and  all  those  nocturnal,  barely  audible 
movements  of  Nature,  which  it  is  impossible  to  compre- 
hend, or  to  define,  ran  together  into  one  full,  beautiful 
sound  which  we  call  the  stillness  of  the  night.  This  still- 
ness was  broken,  or,  more  correctly,  coincided  with  the  dull 
tramp  of  the  hoofs,  and  the  rustling  of  the  tall  grass, 
which  were  produced  by  the  slowly  moving  detachment. 

Now  and  then  was  heard  the  clang  of  a  heavy  ordnance, 
the  sound  of  clashing  bayonets,  stifled  conversation,  and 
the  snorting  of  a  horse. 

Nature  breathed  pacifyingly  in  beauty  and  strength. 

Is  this  beautiful  world,  with  its  immeasurable  starry 
heaven,  too-  small  for  people  to  live  together  in  peace? 
Can  the  feeling  of  mahce,  vengeance,  or  the  passion  for 
annihilating  his  kind  survive  in  the  soul  of  man,  amidst 
this  entrancing  Nature  ?  Everything  evil  in  the  heart 
of  man,  it  seems,  ought  to  vanish  in  his  contact  with 
Nature,  —  that  immediate  expression  of  beauty  and 
soodnesa. 


VII. 

We  had  been  riding  more  than  two  hours.  T  was 
getting  chilled  and  drowsy.  In  the  darkness  I  dimly- 
discerned  the  same  indistinct  objects :  at  a  certain 
distance  a  black  wall,  and  just  such  moving  spots ;  right 
close  to  me  the  crupper  of  a  white  horse  which  switched 
its  tail  and  widely  spread  its  hind  legs  •  a  back  in  a  white 
mantle,  on  which  could  be  seen  a  rifle  in  a  black  cover, 
and  the  white  handle  of  a  pistol  in  a  hand-made  case ;  the 
fire  of  a  cigarette,  lighting  up  a  red  moustache ;  a  beaver 
collar,  and  a  hand  in  a  chamois-leather  glove.  I  bent 
down  to  the  neck  of  the  horse,  closed  my  eyes,  and  forgot 
myself  for  a  few  minutes ;  then,  I  was  suddenly  struck  by 
the  familiar  tramping  and  rustling :  I  looked  round,  — 
and  it  seemed  to  me  that  I  stood  in  one  spot,  and  that 
the  black  wall  which  was  in  front  was  moving  up  to*  me, 
or  that  the  wall  had  slopped,  and  I  was  just  about  to 
ride  into  it.  In  one  such  moment  I  was  still  more  struck 
by  an  approaching  uninterrupted  din,  the  cause  of  which 
I  could  not  make  out :  it  was  the  roar  of  water.  We 
were  entering  a  deep  ravine,  and  approaching  a  mountain 
torrent  w^ich  was  then  at  its  highest.  The  roar  grew 
louder ;  the  damp  grass  became  thicker  and  taller ;  bushes 
were  more  frequent ;  and  the  horizon  grew  by  degrees 
narrower.  Now  and  then  bright  fires  flashed  in  various 
places  in  the  gloomy  background  of  the  mountains,  and 
immediately  disappeared  again. 

"  Please  tell  me  what  kind  of  fires  these  are  ! "  I  said 
in  a  whisper  to  a  Tartar  who  was  riding  at  my  side. 

481 


482  THE    INCURSION 

"  Don't  you  know  ?  "  he  answered. 

"  No." 

"  It  is  mountain-grass  tied  to  a  post  and  put  on  fire." 

"  What  is  that  for  ?  " 

"  That  everybody  should  know  that  the  Kussians  have 
come.  Now,"  he  added,  laughing,  "  there  '^ill  be  a  terrible 
hubbub  in  the  villages,  everybody  will  be  taking  all  his 
possessions  to  some  deep  valley." 

"  Do  they  already  know  in  the  mountains  that  the  army 
is  coming  ?  "  I  asked  him. 

"  Oh,  how  can  they  help  knowing  ?  They  always 
know :  that  is  the  way  with  our  people  !  " 

"  So  Shamil  is  now  getting  ready  for  the  expedition  ? " 
I  asked. 

"  No,"  he  answered,  shaking  his  head,  in  denial.  "  Shamil 
will  not  be  in  the  expedition :  he  will  send  a  superior 
officer,  and  himself  will  be  up  tliere,  looking  through  a 
glass." 

"  Does  he  live  far  from  here  ?  " 

"  No.     On  the  left,  about  ten  versts  from  here." 

"  How  do  you  know  ?  "  I  asked.  "  Have  you  been 
there  ? " 

"  Yes.     We  have  all  been  in  the  mountains." 

"  And  have  you  seen  Shamil  ? " 

"  No,  we  cannot  see  Shamil.  One  hundred,  three  hun- 
dred, a  thousand  guards  are  all  about  him.  Shamil  is 
in  the  middle ! "  he  said,  with  an  expression  of  servile 
admiration. 

Looking  up,  one  could  see  that  it  was  dawning  in  the 
east  in  the  clear  heaven,  and  the  Pleiades  were  low  on 
the  horizon ;  but  in  the  ravine,  through  which  we  passed, 
it  was  damp  and  gloomy. 

Suddenly,  a  little  ahead  of  us,  several  fires  were  lighted 
in  the  darkness ;  at  the  same  moment  bullets  whizzed  by 
with  a  whining  sound,  and  amidst  the  s;irrounding  silence 
resounded  reports  of  guns,  and  a  loud,  penetrating  cry. 


THE    INCURSION  488 

Those  were  the  advance  pickets  of  the  enemy.  The 
Tartars  who  composed  them  shouted,  discharged  their 
guns  at  random,  and  ran  away. 

Everything  was  silent  again.  The  general  called  up 
the  interpreter.  A  Tartar  in  a  white  mantle  rode  up  and 
spoke  to  him  for  quite  awhile,  in  a  whisper,  and  gesticu- 
lating. 

"  Colonel  Khasanov  !  Order  the  cordon  to  be  scattered," 
said  the  general,  in  a  quiet,  drawling,  but  distinct  voice. 

The  detachment  walked  up  to  the  river,  the  black 
mountains  of  the  cleft  were  behind  us ;  day  began  to 
dawn.  The  vault  of  heaven,  on  which  pale,  indistinct 
stars  were  barely  visible,  seemed  higher ;  the  morning 
star  began  to  shine  brightly  in  the  east ;  a  fresh,  chill 
breeze  blew  from  the  west,  and  a  light,  steam-like  mist 
rose  over  the  roaring  river. 


VIIL 

The  guide  pointed  out  a  ford,  and  the  van  of  the 
cavah-y,  and  immediately  afterward  the  general,  with  his 
suite,  began  to  cross  over.  The  water  was  up  to  the 
liorses'  breasts  and  rushed  down  with  extraordinary  force 
between  white  boulders,  which  in  places  could  be  seen 
at  the  surface  of  the  water,  and  formed  foaming,  hissing 
streams  about  the  legs  of  the  horses.  The  horses  were 
surprised  at  the  roar  of  the  water,  raised  their  heads,  and 
pricked  their  ears,  but  walked  evenly  and  cautiously 
against  the  current  over  the  broken  bottom.  The  riders 
raised  their  feet  and  weapons.  The  foot-soldiers,  literally 
in  their  shirts,  raising  above  the  water  their  guns,  over 
which  were  slung  bundles  containing  their  wearing 
apparel,  and  holding  each  other's  hands,  twenty  at  a  time, 
with  evident  effort,  as  was  seen  in  their  strained  faces, 
tried  to  stem  the  current.  The  artillery  riders  drove  their 
horses  in  a  trot  into  the  water,  with  a  shout.  The  cannon 
and  the  green  caissons,  across  which  the  water  washed 
now  and  then,  rang  out  against  the  stony  bottom ;  but 
the  good  Cossack  horses  tugged  together  at  their  traces, 
made  the  water  foam,  and  with  wet  tails  and  manes 
climbed  the  opposite  bank. 

The  moment  the  crossing  was  accomplished,  the  general 
suddenly  looked  pensive  and  serious,  wheeled  his  horse 
about,  and  started  in  a  trot  with  the  infantry  over  the 
broad,  wood-girt  clearing  which  opened  up  before  us.  A 
cordon  of  Cossack  horsemen  was  scattered  along  the  edge 
of  the  forest. 

484 


THE    INCURSION  485 

In  the  woods  was  seen  a  footman  in  mantle  and  fur 
cap ;  then  a  second,  a  third.  Some  one  of  the  officers 
called  out,  "  These  are  Tartars  1 "  Then  a  puff  of  smoke 
appeared  from  behind  a  tree  —  a  shot,  another.  Our 
frequent  fusilade  drowned  that  of  the  enemy.  Only 
now  and  then  a  bullet  flying  by  with  a  slow  sound, 
resembling  that  made  by  a  bee  in  its  flight,  proved  that 
not  all  the  shots  were  ours.  Now  the  infantry  with 
hurried  step  and  the  ordnance  at  a  trot  passed  into  the 
cordon ;  there  were  heard  the  booming  discharges  of  the 
cannon,  the  metalhc  sound  of  case-shot,  the  hissing  of 
rockets,  the  cracking  of  guns.  The  cavalry,  infantry,  and 
artillery  were  seen  on  all  sides  in  the  extensive  clearing. 
The  smoke  of  the  cannon,  rockets,  and  muskets  inter- 
mingled with  the  dew-covered  verdure  and  the  mist. 
Colonel  Khasanov  galloped  up  to  the  general,  and  abruptly 
checked  his  horse  at  full  speed. 

"  Your  Excellency ! "  he  exclaimed,  raising  his  hand  to 
his  cap, "  order  the  cavalry  to  advance  !  The  pennons  ^  have 
appeared,"  and  he  pointed  with  his  whip  to  the  Tartar 
horsemen,  in  front  of  whom  rode  two  men  on  white 
horses,  with  red  and  blue  rags  on  sticks. 

"  Very  well,  Ivan  Mikhaylovich  ! "  said  the  general. 

The  colonel  turned  his  horse  on  the  spot,  unsheathed 
his  sabre,  and  shouted,  "  Hurrah  !  " 

"  Hurrah !  Hurrah  !  Hurrah  ! "  it  rang  out  in  the  ranks, 
and  the  ca .  ..Iry  flew  after  them. 

Everybody  watched  with  curiosity ;  there  was  a  pennon, 
another,  a  third,  a  fourth  — 

The  enemy  did  not  wait  for  the  attack,  but  concealed 
himself  in  the  forest,  and  opened  a  musketry  fire  from 
there.     The  bullets  flew  more  frequently. 

"Quel  charmant  covyp  cVmil!"  said  the  general,  lightly 

^  The  pennons  have,  among  the  mountaineers,  ahnost  the  same  value 
as  flags,  except  that  every  brave  may  make  and  display  his  own 
pennon.  —  Author''s  Note. 


486  THE    INCURSION 

rising,  in  English  fashion,  on  his  black,  slender-legged 
horse. 

"Charmant!"  answered  the  major,  pronouncing  his  r 
gutturally,  and,  striking  his  horse  with  his  whip,  rode  up 
to  the  general.  "  C  'est  un  vrai  plaisir,  que  la  guerre  dans 
un  aussi  heau  pays"  he  said. 

"Et  surtout  en  bonne  compagnie,"  added  the  general, 
with  a  pleasant  smile. 

The  major  bowed. 

Just  then  a  cannon-ball  from  the  enemy  flew  by  with 
a  rapid,  disagreeable  hiss,  and  struck  against  something. 
Behind  me  was  heard  the  groan  of  a  wounded  man.  This 
groan  impressed  me  so  strangely  that  the  warlike  picture 
lost  all  its  charm  for  me  in  a  flash.  No  one  but  me  seemed 
to  have  noticed  it.  The  major  laughed,  with  greater  en- 
thusiasm, it  seemed ;  another  officer  calmly  repeated  the 
unfinished  words  of  his  sentence;  the  general  looked  in 
the  opposite  direction,  and  with  the  calmest  smile  said 
something  in  Trench. 

"  Do  you  order  the  return  of  their  fire  ? "  asked  the  com- 
mander of  the  artillery,  galloping  up. 

"  Yes,  scare  them  a  little,"  carelessly  said  the  general, 
lighting  his  cigar. 

The  battery  took  its  position,  and  the  cannonade  began. 
The  earth  groaned  from  the  discharges  of  the  guns  ;  fires 
kept  on  flashing,  and  the  smoke,  through  which  one  could 
hardly  distinguish  the  attendants  moving  near  their  guns, 
dimmed  the  eyes. 

The  village  was  taken.  Colonel  Khasanov  again  rode  up 
to  the  general,  and,  having  received  his  orders,  galloped 
away  into  the  village.  The  war-cry  was  raised  once  more, 
and  the  cavalry  disappeared  in  the  cloud  of  dust  which  it 
raised. 

The  spectacle  was  truly  majestic.  There  was,  however, 
one  thing  which  entirely  spoiled  the  impression  for  me,  as 
a  man  who  did  not  take  any  part  in  the  action,  and  who 


THE    INCURSION  487 

was  unused  to  it :  to  me  this  motiou,  and  animation,  and 
the  shouts  seemed  superfluous.  Involuntarily  the  com- 
parison occurred  to  me  of  a  man  who  strikes  the  air  with 
an  axe  from  the  shoulder. 


IX. 

The  village  was  occupied  by  our  army,  and  not  a  single 
soul  of  the  enemy  was  left  in  it,  when  the  general  rode  up 
to  it  with  his  suite,  with  which  I  had  mingled. 

The  long,  neat  huts,  with  their  flat  earth  roofs  and  beau- 
tiful chimneys,  were  situated  on  uneven,  rocky  mounds, 
between  which  flowed  a  small  brook.  On  one  side  were 
seen  green  gardens  illuminated  by  the  bright  sunlight, 
with  enormous  pear-trees  and  plum-trees ;  on  the  other 
towered  strange  shadows,  —  tall,  perpendicular  stones  of 
the  cemetery,  and  long,  wooden  poles,  with  balls  and  many- 
coloured  flags  attached  to  their  ends.  These  were  the 
graves  of  the  dzhigits. 

The  army  stood  drawn  up  beyond  the  gate. 

A  minute  later  the  dragoons,  the  Cossacks,  and  the 
infantry  with  evident  joy  scattered  over  the  crooked  lanes, 
and  the  empty  village  suddenly  became  enhvened.  In  one 
place  a  thatch  was  battered  down,  an  axe  struck  against 
the  solid  wood,  and  a  board  door  was  broken  through ;  in 
another,  a  hayrick,  a  fence,  a  hut,  were  set  on  fire,  and  the 
dense  smoke  rose  like  a  column  in  the  clear  atmosphere. 
Here  a  Cossack  dragged  along  a  bag  of  flour  and  a  carpet ; 
a  soldier  with  a  beaming  face  brought  out  of  a  hut  a  tin 
basin  and  some  rag ;  another,  stretching  out  his  hands,  was 
trying  to  catch  a  couple  of  hens  that  with  loud  cackling 
were  fluttering  against  the  fence  ;  a  third  found  somewhere 
a  huge  earthern  pot  with  milk  which  he  smashed  on  the 
ground  with  a  loud  laugh,  after  he  had  drunk  his  fill 
from  it. 

488 


THE   INCURSION  489 


The  battalion  with  which  I  had  come  from  Fort  N- 


was  also  in  the  village.  The  captain  was  sitting  on  the  roof 
of  a  hut,  and  puffing  streams  of  Sambrotalik  tobacco  from 
his  short  pipe,  with  such  an  indifferent  expression  on  his 
face  that,  when  I  saw  him,  I  forgot  that  we  were  in  a  hos- 
tile village,  and  I  imagined  I  was  quite  at  home  in  it. 

"  Oh,  you  are  here,  too  ? "  he  said,  noticing  me. 

The  tall  figure  of  Lieutenant  Kosenkranz  flashed,  now 
here,  now  there,  in  the  village ;  he  was  continually  giving 
orders,  and  had  the  appearance  of  a  man  extremely  worried 
about  something.  I  saw  him  come  out  of  a  hut  with  a 
triumphant  countenance  ;  he  was  followed  by  two  soldiers 
who  were  leading  an  old  Tartar  in  fetters.  The  old  man, 
whose  whole  attire  cousisred  of  a  motley  half-coat  all  in 
rags,  and  patched-up  drawers,  was  so  feeble  that  his  bony 
hands,  which  were  tightly  fastened  on  his  stooping  back, 
barely  seemed  to  be  attached  to  his  shoulders,  and  his 
crooked,  bare  feet  moved  with  difficulty.  His  face  and 
even  a  part  of  his  shaven  head  were  furrowed  by  deep 
wrinkles ;  his  distorted,  toothless  mouth,  surrounded  by  a 
closely  cropped  gray  moustache  and  beard,  moved  inces- 
santly as  though  chewing  something  ;  but  in  his  red  eyes, 
which  were  bereft  of  their  lashes,  still  sparkled  fire,  and 
was  clearly  expressed  an  old  man's  indifference  to  hfe. 

Eosenkranz  asked  hira  through  an  interpreter  why  he 
had  not  gone  with  the  rest. 

"Where  should  I  go?"  he  said,  calmly  looking  about 
him. 

"  Where  the  others  have  gone,"  remarked  somebody. 

"  The  dzhigits  have  gone  to  fight  the  Russians,  but  I  am 
an  old  man." 

"  Are  you  not  afraid  of  the  Russians  ? " 

"  What  will  the  Russians  do  to  me  ?  I  am  an  old 
man,"  he  said  again,  carelessly  surveying  the  circle  which 
had  formed  itself  around  hiui. 

On  my  way  back,  I  saw  the  same  old  man,  without  a 


490  THE    INCURSION 

cap,  with  his  hands  tied,  shaking  behind  the  saddle  of  a 
Cossack  of  the  hue,  and  looking  about  him  with  the  same 
apathetic  expression.  He  was  needed  for  the  exchange  of 
prisoners. 

I  chmbed  on  the  roof,  and  took  a  seat  near  the  captain. 

"  It  seems  there  were  but  few  of  the  enemy,"  I  said  to 
him,  wishing  to  learn  his  opinion  of  the  past  action. 

"  Enemy  ? "  he  repeated,  with  amazement.  "  Why,  there 
were  none.  Do  you  call  these  the  enemy  ?  You  wait 
for  the  evening  when  we  retreat ;  you  will  see  then  what 
company  we  shall  have  !  There  will  be  enough  of  them  ! " 
he  added,  pointing  with  his  pipe  to  the  young  forest 
which  we  had  crossed  in  the  morning. 

"  What  is  this  ? "  I  asked,  anxiously,  interrupting  the 
captain,  and  pointing  at  a  number  of  Don  Cossacks  col- 
lected a  short  distance  from  us. 

We  heard  in  their  midst  something  resembling  the  cry 
of  a  baby,  and  the  words : 

"  Oh,  don't  cut  —  stop  —  they  will  see  us.  Have  you 
a  knife,  Evstign^ich  ?     Give  me  your  knife." 

"  They  are  dividing  up  something,  the  scamps,"  calmly 
remarked  the  captain. 

Just  then  the  handsome  ensign  suddenly  came  running 
from  around  the  corner,  with  a  flushed  and  frightened 
face,  and,  waving  his  hands,  flew  at  the  Cossacks. 

"  Don't  touch  it,  don't  strike  it !  "  he  cried,  in  a  child- 
hke  voice. 

When  the  Cossacks  saw  the  officer,  they  stepped  aside 
and  let  a  white  little  goat  escape  out  of  their  hands.  The 
young  ensign  was  very  much  embarrassed,  mumbled 
something,  and  stopped  in  front  of  us  with  a  confused 
countenance.  Noticing  the  captain  and  me  on  the  roof, 
he  blushed  still  more  and  ran  trippingly  up  to  us. 

"  I  thought  they  were  about  to  kill  a  baby,"  he  said, 
smiling  timidly. 


The  general  had  gone  ahead  with  the  cavalry.  The  bat- 
talion with  which  I  had  come  from  Fort  N remained 

in  the  rear-guard.  The  companies  of  Captain  Khlopov 
and  Lieutenant  Eosenkranz  were  retreating  together. 

The  captain's  prediction  was  completely  verified  :  the 
moment  we  entered  the  narrow  young  forest  which  he 
had  mentioned,  mountaineers  on  horse  and  on  foot  con- 
tinually flashed  by  us  on  both  sides,  and  at  so  close  a 
range  that  I  clearly  saw  some  of  them,  bending  down,  and, 
with  musket  in  hand,  running  from  one  tree  to  another. 

The  captain  took  off  his  cap,  and  piously  made  the 
sign  of  the  cross  ;  some  of  the  older  soldiers  did  likewise. 
In  the  forest  were  heard  the  war-cry  and  the  words : 
"  lay,  Giaour  !  lay  Urus  !  "  Dry,  short  musket  reports 
followed  one  after  another,  and  bullets  whizzed  on  both 
sides.  Ours  answered  silently  with  a  running  fire ;  in 
our  ranks,  occasionally,  were  heard  remarks  like  these : 
"  Where  does  he  ^  shoot  from  ?  It  is  easy  for  him  behind 
the  trees !  We  ought  to  bring  out  the  cannon,"  and 
so  forth. 

The  ordnance  was  drawn  out,  and,  after  a  few  dis- 
charges of  case-shot,  the  enemy  seemed  to  weaken,  but  a 
moment  later  the  fire,  the  shouts,  and  the  war-cry  in- 
creased with  every  step  which  our  army  was  taking. 

We  had  retreated  less  than  six  hundred  yards  from  the 
village,  when  the   cannon-balls  of   the  enemy  began   to 

1  "  He  "  is  a  collective  name  by  which  the  soldiers  in  the  Caucasus 
understand  the  enemy  in  general.  —  Author^ s  Note, 

491 


492  THE    INCURSION 

whistle  above  us.  I  saw  a  soldier  killed  by  a  ball  —  but 
why  tell  the  details  of  tliis  terrible  picture,  when  I  myself 
would  give  much  to  forget  it ! 

Lieutenant  Rosenkranz  himself  fired  off  his  musket, 
without  stopping  a  minute  to  rest,  in  a  hoarse  voice  gave 
orders  to  the  soldiers,  and  at  full  speed  galloped  from  one 
end  of  the  cordon  to  the  other.  He  was  somewhat  pale, 
and  that  was  quite  becoming  to  his  martial  countenance. 

The  handsome  ensign  was  in  ecstasy;  his  beautiful 
black  eyes  sparkled  with  daring  ;  his  mouth  smiled  lightly  ; 
he  continually  rode  up  to  the  captain  and  asked  his  per- 
mission to  charge  the  enemy. 

"  We  will  drive  them  back,"  he  said,  persuasively, 
"  really,  we  will." 

"  Not  now,"  rephed  the  captain,  gently,  "  we  must  re- 
treat ! " 

The  captain's  company  occupied  the  edge  of  the  forest 
and  returned  the  fire  of  the  enemy  while  lying  down. 
The  captain,  in  his  threadliare  coat  and  dishevelled  cap, 
slackened  the  reins  of  his  white  pony,  and,  bending  his 
feet  in  his  short  stirrups,  stood  silently  in  one  spot.  (The 
soldiers  knew  their  business  so  well  that  there  was  no 
need  of  giving  them  orders.)  Only  now  and  then  he 
raised  his  voice  and  called  out  to  those  who  hfted  their 
heads.  The  captain's  figure  was  not  very  martial,  but 
there  was  so  much  truthfulness  and  simplicity  in  his 
countenance  that  I  was  exceedingly  impressed  by  it. 
"  Here  is  a  truly  brave  man,"  I  said,  involuntarily,  to 
myself. 

He  was  just  as  I  always  saw  him :  the  same  calm 
movements,  the  same  even  voice,  the  same  expression  of 
guilelessness  on  his  homely  but  simple  face  ;  by  his  more 
than  usually  bright  glance  one  could  tell  the  attention  of 
a  man  quietly  occupied  with  his  business.  It  is  easy  to 
say  "  just  as  always ; "  but  how  many  different  shades  have 
I  noticed  in  others !    One  wants  to  appear  calmer,  another 


THE   INCURSION  49B 

sterner,  aDother  gayer,  than  usual ;  but  one  could  see  by 
the  captain's  face  that  he  did  not  even  understand  why 
one  should  dissemble. 

The  Frenchman  who  said  at  Waterloo,  "  La  garde 
meurt,  mais  ne  se  rend  pas,"  and  other  heroes,  especially 
French  heroes,  who  have  made  noteworthy  utterances, 
were  brave,  and  really  have  made  noteworthy  utterances ; 
but  between  their  bravery  and  that  of  the  captain  is  this 
difference,  that  if,  upon  any  occasion,  a  great  word  had 
actually  stirred  in  the  soul  of  my  hero,  I  am  convinced  he 
would  never  have  uttered  it ;  first,  because,  having  uttered 
this  great  word,  he  would  have  been  afraid  that  it  would 
spoil  his  great  deed  ;  and  secoTidly,  because  when  a  man 
feels  in  himself  the  power  to  do  a  great  deed,  no  saying  of 
any  kind  is  needed.  This,  in  my  opinion,  is  a  peculiar 
and  subhme  feature  of  Eussian  bravery.  How,  then,  can 
a  Russian  help  being  pained  when  he  hears  our  young 
soldiers  use  trite  French  phrases,  with  their  pretence  of 
imitating  an  antiquated  French  chivalry  ? 

Suddenly  a  scattered  and  subdued  hurrah  was  heard  in 
the  direction  where  the  handsome  ensign  stood  with  a  de- 
tachment. Upon  looking  round,  I  saw  some  thirty  soldiers, 
with  muskets  in  their  hands  and  sacks  on  their  shoulders, 
with  difficulty  run  over  a  newly  ploughed  field.  They 
stumbled,  but  moved  ahead  and  shouted.  In  front  of 
them,  with  drawn  sabre,  galloped  the  young  ensign. 

They  were  all  lost  in  the  forest  — 

After  a  few  minutes  of  shouting  and  crackling  of 
muskets,  the  frightened  horse  ran  out  of  the  forest,  and  in 
the  clearing  appeared  some  soldiers  carrying  the  dead  and 
the  wounded  ;  among  the  latter  was  also  the  young  ensign. 
Two  soldiers  supported  him  under  his  arm.s.  He  was  pale 
as  a  sheet,  and  his  handsome  head,  on  which  was  visible 
only  a  shadow  of  that  martial  transport  that  had  animated 
him  but  a  minute  ago,  seemed  peculiarly  sunken  between 
his  shoulders,  and  fell  down  on  his  breast.     On  the  white 


494  THE    INCURSION 

shirt,  beneath  his  unbuttoned  coat,  could  be  seen  a  small 
blood-stain. 

"  Oh,  what  a  pity  ! "  I  said,  involuntarily  turning  away 
from  that  sad  spectacle. 

"  Of  course,  a  pity,"  said  an  old  soldier  who,  with 
gloomy  face,  stood  near  me,  leaning  on  his  gun.  "  He  is 
afraid  of  nothing.  How  can  one  do  so  ?  "  he  added  looking 
fixedly  at  the  wounded  man.  "  He  is  still  foohsh,  so  he  is 
paying  the  penalty." 

"  And  are  you  afraid  ?  "  I  asked. 

«  Well,  no  ! " 


XL 

Four  soldiers  were  carrying  the  ensign  on  a  litter. 
Behind  it  a  soldier  from  the  suburb  led  a  lean,  foundered 
horse  laden  with  two  green  boxes  that'  contained  the  sur- 
geon's instruments.  They  were  waiting  for  the  physician. 
The  officers  rode  up  to  the  litter  and  tried  to  encourage 
the  wounded  man. 

"  Well,  brother  Alanin,  it  \\dll  be  some  time  before  you 
dance  again  with  the  castagnettes,"  said  Lieutenant  Ro- 
senkranz,  who  rode  up,  smiling. 

He  evidently  thought  that  these  words  would  sustain 
the  courage  of  the  handsome  ensign ;  but,  so  far  as  one 
could  judge  by  the  cold  and  sad  expression  of  the  latter's 
countenance,  they  did  not  produce  the  desired  effect. 

The  captain  rode  up,  too.  He  looked  steadily  at  the 
wounded  lad,  and  on  his  ever  indifferent  and  cold  face 
was  expressed  genuine  pity. 

"  Well,  my  dear  Anatoli  Ivanych,"  he  said,  in  a  voice 
full  of  tender  sympathy,  such  as  I  had  not  expected  from 
him,  "  it  was  evidently  God's  will." 

The  wounded  lad  looked  up ;  his  pale  face  was  hghted 
by  a  sad  smile. 

"  Yes,  I  did  not  obey  you." 

"  Say  rather,  it  was  God's  will,"  repeated  the  captain. 

The  physician,  who  had  in  the  meantime  arrived,  took 
from  the  assistant  some  bandages,  a  probe,  and  another 
implement,  and,  rolling  up  his  sleeves,  walked  up  to  the 
wounded  man  with  an  encouraging  smile. 

"Well,  I  see  they  have   made   a   little  hole  in  vour 

495 


496  THE    INCURSION 

healthy  body,"  he  said,  in  a  jesting  and  careless  tone; 
"  show  it  to  me  ! " 

The  ensign  obeyed,  but  in  the  expression  with  which 
he  glanced  at  the  mirthful  doctor  were  surprise  and  re- 
proach, which  the  latter  did  not  see.  He  began  to  probe 
the  wound,  and  to  examine  it  from  all  sides ;  but  the 
wounded  man  lost  his  patience  and  with  a  heavy  groan 
pushed  away  his  hand. 

"  Leave  me  alone,"  he  said,  in  a  barely  audible  voice,  ■'  I 
shall  die  anyway." 

With  these  words  he  fell  on  his  back,  and  five  minutes 
later,  when  I  went  up  to  the  gi'oup  that  had  formed  itself 
near  him,  and  asked  a  soldier,  "  How  is  the  ensign  ?  "  he 
answered,  "  He  is  going ! " 


XII, 

It  was  late  when  the  detachment,  drawn  out  in  a 
broad  column,  approached  the  fortress  with  songs.  The 
sun  had  disappeared  behind  the  snow-covered  mountain 
range,  and  was  casting  its  last,  rosy  rays  on  a  long,  thin 
cloud  which  was  hovering  in  the  clear,  transparent  hori- 
zon. The  snow-capped  mountains  were  beginning  to  dis- 
appear in  a  lilac  mist ;  only  their  upper  contour  was 
delineated  with  extraordinary  clearness  against  the  blood- 
red  light  of  the  sunset.  The  transparent  moon,  which  had 
long  been  up,  was  growing  white  against  the  dark  azure 
sky.  The  verdure  of  the  grass  and  the  trees  looked  black, 
and  was  covered  with  dew.  The  dark  masses  of  the 
troops  moved,  with  an  even  noise,  across  a  luxuriant 
field ;  tambourines,  drums,  and  merry  songs  were  heard 
from  all  sides.  The  singer  of  Company  Six  sang  out 
with  all  his  might,  and  the  sounds  of  the  pure  chest-notes 
of  his  tenor,  full  of  sentiment  and  power,  were  borne  afar 
through  the  transparent  evening  air. 


497 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

A  Morning  of  a  Landed  Proprietor          ...  1 

The  Cossacks  :    A  Novel  of  the  Caucasus        .         .  79 

Sevastopol 309 

The  Cutting  of  the  Forest 475 


A   MORNING   OF   A   LANDED 

PROPRIETOR 

1852 


A   MORNING   OF  A   LANDED 
PROPRIETOR 

Fragment  trom  an  Unfinished  Novel,  "  A  Russian 
Proprietor  " 


Prince  Nekhlyudov  was  nineteen  years  old  when  he 
came  from  the  Third  Course  of  the  university  to  pass  his 
vacation  on  his  estate,  and  remained  there  by  himself  all 
summer.  In  the  autumn  he  wrote  in  his  unformed  child- 
ish hand  to  his  aunt,  Countess  Byelory^tski,  who,  in  his 
opinion,  was  his  best  friend  and  the  most  brilliant  woman 
in  the  world.  The  letter  was  in  French,  and  ran  as 
follows : 

"  Dear  Aunty  :  —  I  have  made  a  resolution  on  which 
the  fate  of  my  whole  life  must  depend.  I  will  leave  the 
university  in  order  to  devote  myself  to  country  life,  be- 
cause I  feel  that  I  was  born  for  it.  For  God's  sake,  dear 
aunty,  do  not  laugh  at  me !  You  will  say  that  I  am 
young ;  and,  indeed,  I  may  still  be  a  child,  but  this  does 
not  prevent  me  from  feeling  what  my  calhng  is,  and  from 
wishing  to  do  good,  and  loving  it. 

"  As  I  have  written  you  before,  I  found  affairs  in  an 
indescribable  disorder.  Wishing  to  straighten  them  out, 
and  to  understand  them,  I  discovered  that  the  main  evil 

3 


4  A    MORNING    OF    A    LANDED    PROPRIETOR 

lay  in  the  most  pitiable,  poverty-stricken  condition  of  the 
peasants,  and  that  the  evil  was  such  that  it  could  be 
mended  by  labour  and  patience  alone.  If  you  could  only 
see  two  of  my  peasants,  Davyd  and  Ivan,  and  the  lives 
which  they  lead  with  their  families,  I  am  sure  that  the 
mere  sight  of  these  unfortunates  would  convince  you  more 
than  all  I  might  say  to  explain  my  intention  to  you. 

"  Is  it  not  my  sacred  and  direct  duty  to  care  for  the 
welfare  of  these  seven  hundred  men,  for  whom  I  shall  be 
held  responsible  before  God  ?  Is  it  not  a  sin  to  abandon 
them  to  the  arbitrariness  of  rude  elders  and  managers, 
for  plans  of  enjoyment  and  ambition  ?  And  why  should 
I  look  in  another  sphere  for  opportunities  of  being  useful 
and  doing  good,  when  such  a  noble,  brilliant,  and  im- 
mediate duty  is  open  to  me  ? 

"  I  feel  myself  capable  of  being  a  good  landed  propri- 
etor ;  and,  in  order  to  be  one,  as  I  understand  this  word, 
one  needs  neither  a  university  diploma,  nor  ranks,  which 
you  are  so  anxious  I  should  obtain.  Dear  aunty,  make 
no  ambitious  plans  for  me !  Accustom  yourself  to  the 
thought  that  I  have  chosen  an  entirely  different  path, 
which  is,  nevertheless,  good,  and  which,  I  feel,  will  bring 
me  happiness.  I  have  thought  much,  very  much,  about 
my  future  duty,  have  written  out  rules  for  my  actions, 
and,  if  God  will  only  grant  me  life  and  strength,  shall 
succeed  in  my  undertaking. 

"  Do  not  show  this  letter  to  my  brother  Vasya.  I  am 
afraid  of  his  ridicule  ;  he  is  in  the  habit  of  directing  me, 
and  I  of  submitting  to  him.  Vauya  will  understand  my 
intention,  even  though  he  may  not  approve  of  it." 

The  countess  answered  with  the  following  French 
letter  • 

"Your  letter,  dear  Dmitri,  proved  nothing  to  me, 
except  that  you  have  a  beautiful  soul,  which  fact  I  have 


A    MOKNING    OF    A    LANDED    PROPKIETOR  5 

never  doubted.  But,  dear  friend,  our  good  qualities  do 
us  more  harm  in  life  than  our  bad  ones.  I  will  not  tell 
you  that  you  are  committing  a  folly,  and  that  your  con- 
duct mortifies  me ;  I  will  try  to  influence  you  by  argu- 
ments alone.  Let  us  reason,  my  friend.  You  say  that 
you  feel  a  calling  for  country  life,  that  you  wi.sh  to  make 
your  peasants  happy,  and  that  you  hope  to  be  a  good  pro- 
prietor. (1)  I  must  tell  you  that  we  feel  a  calling  only 
after  we  have  made  a  mistake  in  it ;  (2)  that  it  is  easier 
to  make  yourself  happy  than  others ;  and  (3)  that  in 
order  to  be  a  good  proprietor,  one  must  be  a  cold  and 
severe  man,  which  you  will  scarcely  ba,  however  nnich 
you  may  try  to  dissemble. 

"  You  consider  your  reflections  incontrovertible,  and 
even  accept  them  as  rules  of  conduct ;  but  at  my  age,  my 
dear,  we  do  not  believe  in  reflections  and  rules,  but  only 
in  experience ;  and  experience  tells  me  that  your  plans 
are  childish.  I  am  not  far  from  fifty,  and  I  have  known 
many  worthy  people,  but  I  have  never  heard  of  a  young 
man  of  good  family  and  of  ability  burying  himself  in  the 
country,  for  the  sake  of  doing  good.  You  always  wished 
to  appear  original,  but  your  originality  is  nothing  but 
superfluous  self-love.  And,  my  dear,  you  had  better 
choose  well-trodden  paths !  They  lead  more  easily  to 
success,  and  success,  though  you  may  not  need  it  as  suc- 
cess, is  necessary  in  order  to  have  the  possibility  of  doing 
the  good  which  you  wish. 

"  The  poverty  of  a  few  peasants  is  a  necessary  evil,  or 
an  evil  which  may  be  remedied  without  forgetting  all 
your  obligations  to  society,  to  your  relatives,  and  to  your- 
self. With  your  intellect,  with  your  heart  and  love  of 
virtue,  there  is  not  a  career  in  which  you  would  not 
obtain  success ;  but  at  least  choose  one  which  would  be 
worthy  of  you  and  would  do  you  honour. 

"  I  beheve  in  your  sincerity,  when  you  say  that  you 
have  no  ambition ;  but  you  are  deceiving  yourself.     Am- 


b  A   MORNING    OF    A    LANDED    PROPRIETOR 

bition  is  a  virtue  at  your  years  and  with  your  means ; 
but  it  becomes  a  defect  and  a  vulgarity,  when  a  man  is 
no  longer  able  to  satisfy  that  passion.  You,  too,  will 
experience  it,  if  you  will  not  be  false  to  your  intention. 
Good-bye,  dear  Mitya !  It  seems  to  me  that  I  love  you 
even  more  for  your  insipid,  but  noble  and  magnanimous, 
plan.  Do  as  you  think  best,  but  I  confess  I  cannot 
agree  with  you." 

Having  received  this  letter,  the  young  man  long  medi- 
tated over  it ;  finally,  having  decided  that  even  a  brilliant 
woman  may  make  mistakes,  he  petitioned  for  a  discharge 
from  the  vmiversity,  and  for  ever  remained  in  the  country. 


n. 

The  young  proprietor,  as  he  wrote  to  his  aunt,  had 
formed  rules  of  action  for  his  estate,  and  all  his  life  and 
occupations  were  scheduled  by  hours,  days,  and  months. 
Sunday  was  appointed  for  the  reception  of  petitioners, 
domestic  and  manorial  serfs,  for  the  inspection  of  the 
farms  of  the  needy  peasants,  and  for  the  distribution  of 
supplies  with  the  consent  of  the  Commune,  which  met 
every  Sunday  evening,  and  was  to  decide  what  aid  each 
was  to  receive.  More  than  a  year  passed  in  these  occu- 
pations, and  the  young  man  was  not  entirely  a  novice, 
either  in  the  practical  or  in  tlie  theoretical  knowledge 
of  farming. 

It  was  a  clear  June  Sunday  when  Nekhlyildov,  after 
drinking  his  coffee,  and  running  through  a  chapter  of 
"  Maison  Rustique,"  with  a  note-book  and  a  package  of 
bills  in  the  pocket  of  his  light  overcoat,  walked  out  of  the 
large,  columnated,  and  terraced  country-house,  in  which 
he  occupied  a  small  room  on  the  lower  story,  and  directed 
his  way,  over  the  neglected,  weed-grown  paths  of  the  old 
English  garden,  to  the  village  that  was  situated  on  both 
sides  of  the  highway.  Nekhlyudov  was  a  tall,  slender 
young  man  with  long,  thick,  wavy,  auburn  hair,  with  a 
bright  sparkle  in  his  black  eyes,  with  red  cheeks,  and 
ruby  lips  over  which  the  first  down  of  youth  was  just 
appearing.  In  all  his  movements  and  in  his  gait  were  to 
be  seen  strength,  energy,  and  the  good-natured  self-sat- 
isfaction of  youth.  The  peasants  were  returning  in 
variegated  crowds  from  church ;  old  men,  girls,  children, 

7 


8  A   MORNING    OF    A    LANDED    PROPRIETOR 

women  with  their  suckling  babes,  in  gala  attire,  were 
scattering  to  their  huts,  bowing  low  to  their  master,  and 
making  a  circuit  around  him.  When  Nekhlyiidov  reached 
the  street,  he  stopped,  drew  his  note-book  from  his  pocket, 
and  on  the  last  page,  which  was  covered  with  a  childish 
handwriting,  read  several  peasant  names,  with  notes. 
"  Ivan  Churis  asked  for  fork  posts,"  he  read,  and,  pro- 
ceeding in  the  street,  walked  up  to  the  gate  of  the  second 
hut  on  the  right. 

Churis's  dwelling  consisted  of  a  half-rotten  log  square, 
musty  at  the  corners,  bending  to  one  side,  and  so  sunken 
in  the  ground  that  one  broken,  red,  sliding  window,  with 
its  battered  shutter,  and  another  smaller  window,  stopped 
up  with  a  bundle  of  flax,  were  to  be  seen  right  over  the 
dung-heap.  A  plank  vestibule,  with  a  decayed  threshold 
and  low  door ;  another  smaller  square,  more  rickety  and 
lower  than  the  vestibule ;  a  gate,  and  a  wicker  shed 
clung  to  the  main  hut.  All  that  had  at  one  time  been 
covered  by  one  uneven  thatch  ;  but  now  the  black,  rotting 
straw  hung  only  over  the  eaves,  so  that  in  places  the 
framework  and  the  rafters  could  be  seen.  In  front  of 
the  yard  was  a  well,  with  a  dilapidated  box,  with  a 
remnant  of  a  post  and  wheel,  and  a  dirty  puddle  made 
by  the  tramping  of  the  cattle,  in  which  some  ducks  were 
splashing.  Near  the  well  stood  two  ancient,  cracked,  and 
broken  willows,  with  scanty,  pale  green  leaves.  Under 
one  of  these  willows,  which  witnessed  to  the  fact  that  at 
some  time  in  the  past  some  one  had  tried  to  beautify  the 
spot,  sat  an  eight-year-old  blonde  little  maiden,  with 
another  two-year-old  girl  crawling  on  the  ground.  A 
pup,  which  was  wagging  his  tail  near  them,  ran  headlong 
under  the  gate,  the  moment  he  noticed  the  master,  and 
from  there  burst  into  a  frightened,  quivering  bark. 

"  Is  Iv^n  at  home  ? "  asked  Nekhlyiidov. 

The  older  girl  was  almost  petrified  at  this  question, 
and  was  opening  her  eyes  wider  and  wider,  but  did  not 


A  MORNING  OF  A  LANDED  PROPRIETOR     9 

answer ;  the  smaller  one  opened  her  mouth,  and  was 
getting  ready  to  cry.  A  small  old  woman,  in  a  torn 
checkered  dress,  girded  low  with  an  old,  reddish  belt, 
looked  from  behind  the  door,  but  did  not  answer.  Nekh- 
lyudov  walked  up  to  the  vestibule,  and  repeated  his 
question. 

"  At  home,  benefactor,"  said  the  old  woman,  in  a  quiv- 
ering voice,  bowing  low,  and  agitated  with  terror. 

When  Nekhlyudov  greeted  her,  and  passed  through 
the  vestibule  into  the  narrow  yard,  the  old  woman  put 
her  hand  to  her  chin,  walked  up  to  the  door,  and,  without 
turning  her  eyes  away  from  the  master,  began  slowly  to 
shake  her  head. 

The  yard  looked  wretched.  Here  and  there  lay  old 
blackened  manure  that  had  not  been  removed ;  on  the 
manure-heap  lay  carelessly  a  musty  block,  a  fork,  and 
two  harrows.  The  sheds  about  the  yard,  under  which 
stood,  on  one  side,  a  plough  and  a  cart  without  a  wheel, 
and  lay  a  mass  of  empty,  useless  beehives  in  confusion, 
were  nearly  all  unthatched,  and  one  side  had  fallen  in, 
so  that  the  girders  no  longer  rested  on  the  fork  posts,  but 
on  the  manure. 

Churis,  striking  with  the  edge  and  head  of  his  axe,  was 
trying  to  remove  a  wicker  fence  which  the  roof  had 
crushed.  Ivan  Churis  was  a  man  about  fifty  years  of 
age.  He  was  below  the  average  height.  The  features 
of  his  tanned,  oblong  face,  encased  in  an  auburn  beard 
with  streaks  of  gray,  and  thick  hair  of  the  same  colour, 
were  fair  and  expressive.  His  dark  blue,  half-shut  eyes 
shone  with  intelligence  and  careless  good  nature.  A 
small,  regular  mouth,  sharply  defined  under  a  scanty 
blond  moustache,  expressed,  whenever  he  smiled,  calm 
self-confidence  and  a  certain  derisive  indifference  to  his 
surroundings.  From  the  coarseness  of  his  skin,  deep 
wrinkles,  sharply  defined  veins  on  his  neck,  face,  and 
hands,  from  his  unnatural   stoop,  and  crooked,  arch-like 


10        A    MORNING    OF    A    LANDED    PROPRIETOR      • 

legs,  it  could  be  seen  that  all  his  life  had  passed  in 
extremely  hard  labour,  which  was  beyond  his  strength. 
His  attire  consisted  of  white  hempen  drawers,  with  blue 
patches  over  his  knees,  and  a  similar  dirty  shirt,  which 
was  threadbare  on  his  back  and  arms.  The  shirt  was 
girded  low  by  a  thin  ribbon,  from  which  hung  a  brass  key. 

"  God  aid  you  ! "  said  the  master,  entering  the  yard. 

Churis  looked  around  him,  and  again  took  up  his  work. 
After  an  energetic  effort  he  straightened  out  the  wicker 
work  from  under  the  shed ;  then  only  he  struck  the  axe 
into  a  block,  pulled  his  shirt  in  shape,  and  walked  into 
the  middle  of  the  yard. 

"  I  wish  you  a  pleasant  holiday,  your  Grace  ! "  he  said, 
making  a  low  obeisance,  and  shaking  his  hair. 

"  Thank  you,  my  dear.  I  just  came  to  look  at  your 
farm,"  said  Nekhlyudov,  with  childish  friendliness  and 
embarrassment,  examining  the  peasant's  garb.  "  Let  me 
see  for  what  you  need  the  fork  posts  that  you  asked  of 
me  at  the  meeting  of  the  Commune." 

"  The  forks  ?  Why,  your  Grace,  you  know  what  forks 
are  for.  I  just  wanted  to  give  a  little  support  to  it,  — 
you  may  see  for  your.self.  Only  a  few  days  ago  a  corner 
fell  in,  and  by  God's  kindness  there  were  no  animals  in 
it  at  the  time.  It  barely  hangs  together,"  said  Churis, 
contemptuously  surveying  his  unthatched,  crooked,  and 
dilapidated  sheds.  "  When  it  comes  to  that,  there  is  not 
a  decent  girder,  rafter,  or  box  case  in  them.  Where  am 
I  to  get  the  timber  ?     You  know  that  yourself." 

"  Then  why  do  you  ask  for  five  forks  when  one  shed 
is  all  fallen  in,  and  the  others  soon  v^ll  fall  ?  What  you 
need  is  not  forks,  but  rafters,  girders,  posts,  —  all  new 
ones,"  said  the  master,  obviously  parading  his  familiarity 
with  the  subject. 

Churis  was  silent. 

"  What  you  need,  therefore,  is  timber  and  not  forks. 
You  ought  to  have  said  so." 


A   MORNING    OF    A    LANDED    PEOPRIETOR        11 

"  Of  course,  I  need  that,  but  where  am  I  to  get  it  ?  It 
won't  do  to  go  for  everything  to  the  manor.  What  kind 
of  peasants  should  we  be  if  we  were  permitted  to  go  to 
the  manor  to  ask  your  Grace  for  everything  ?  But  if  you 
will  permit  me  to  take  the  oak  posts  that  are  lying  use- 
lessly in  the  threshing-floor  of  the  manor,"  he  said,  bow- 
ing, and  resting  now  on  one  foot,  now  on  the  other,  "  I 
might  manage,  by  changing  some,  and  cutting  down 
others,  to  fix  something  with  that  old  material." 

"  With  the  old  material  ?  But  you  say  yourself  that 
everything  of  yours  is  old  and  rotten.  To-day  one  corner 
is  falling  in,  to-morrow  another,  and  day  after  to-morrow 
a  third.  So,  if  you  are  to  do  anything  about  it,  you  had 
better  put  in  everything  new,  or  else  your  labour  will 
be  lost.  Tell  me,  what  is  your  opinion  ?  Can  your 
buildings  last  through  the  winter,  or  not  ? " 

"  Who  knows  ? " 

"  No,  what  do  you  think  ?  Will  they  fall  in,  or 
not  ? " 

Churls  meditated  for  a  moment. 

"  It  will  all  fall  in,"  he  said,  suddenly. 

"  Well,  you  see,  you  ought  to  have  said  at  the  meeting 
that  you  have  to  get  the  whole  property  mended,  and 
not  that  you  need  a  few  forks.  I  am  only  too  glad  to 
aid  you." 

"  We  are  very  well  satisfied  with  your  favour,"  answered 
Churis,  incredulously,  without  looking  at  the  master.  "  If 
you  would  only  favour  me  with  four  logs  and  the  forks,  I 
might  manage  it  myself ;  and  whatever  useless  timber 
I  shall  take  out,  might  be  used  for  supports  in  the  hut." 

"  Is  your  hut  in  a  bad  condition,  too  ?  " 

"  My  wife  and  I  are  expecting  every  moment  to  be 
crushed,"  Churis  answered,  with  indifference.  "  Lately  a 
strut  from  the  ceiling  struck  down  my  old  woman." 

"  What  ?     Struck  down  ?  " 

"  Yes,  struck  her  down,  your  Grace.     It  just  whacked 


12        A    MORNING   OF    A    LANDED    PROPRIETOR 

her  on  the  back  so  that  she  was  left  for  dead  until  the 
evening." 

"  Well,  did  she  get  over  it  ?  " 

"  She  did  get  over  it,  but  she  is  ailing  now.  Although, 
of  course,  she  has  been  sickly  since  her  birth." 

"  What,  are  you  sick  ? "  Nekhlyudov  asked  the  old 
woman,  who  continued  to  stand  in  the  door,  and  began  to 
groan  the  moment  her  husband  spoke  of  her. 

"  Something  catches  right  in  here,  that's  all,"  she  an- 
swered, pointing  to  her  dirty,  emaciated  bosom. 

"  Again  !  "  angrily  exclaimed  the  young  master,  shrug- 
ging his  shoulders.  "  There  you  are,  sick,  and  you  did 
not  come  to  the  hospital.  That  is  what  the  hospital  was 
made  for.     Have  you  not  been  told  of  it  ? " 

"  They  told  us,  benefactor,  but  we  have  had  no  time : 
there  is  the  manorial  work,  and  the  house,  and  the  chil- 
dren, —  I  am  all  alone !     There  is  nobody  to  help  me  —  " 


m. 

Nekhlyudov  walked  into  the  hut.  The  uneven,  grimy 
walls  were  in  the  kitchen  corner  covered  with  all  kinds  of 
rags  and  clothes,  while  the  corner  of  honour  was  literally 
red  with  cockroaches  that  swarmed  about  the  images  and 
benches.  In  the  middle  of  this  black,  ill-smelling,  eight- 
een-foot hut  there  was  a  large  crack  in  the  ceiling,  and 
although  supports  were  put  in  two  places,  the  ceiling  was 
so  bent  that  it  threatened  to  fall  down  any  minute. 

"  Yes,  the  hut  is  in  a  very  bad  shape,"  said  the  master, 
gazing  at  the  face  of  Churis,  who,  it  seemed,  did  not  wish 
to  begin  a  conversation  about  this  matter. 

"  It  will  kill  us,  and  the  children,  too,"  the  old  woman 
kept  saying,  in  a  tearful  voice,  leaning  against  the  oven 
under  the  hanging  beds. 

"  Don't  talk  ! "  sternly  spoke  Churis,  and,  turning  to  the 
master,  with  a  light,  barely  perceptible  smile,  which  had 
formed  itself  under  his  quivering  moustache,  he  said  :  "  I 
am  at  a  loss,  your  Grace,  what  to  do  with  this  hut. 
I  have  braced  it  and  mended  it,  but  all  in  vain." 

"  How  are  we  to  pass  a  winter  in  it  ?  Oh,  oh,  oh  ! " 
said  the  woman. 

"Now,  if  I  could  put  in  a  few  braces  and  fix  a  new 
strut,"  her  husband  interrupted  her,  with  a  calm,  business- 
like expression,  "  and  change  one  rafter,  we  might  be  able 
to  get  through  another  winter.  We  might  be  able  to  live 
here,  only  it  will  be  all  cut  up  by  the  braces ;  and  if  any- 
body should  touch  it,  not  a  thing  would  be  left  alive ;  but 

13 


14        A   MORNING    OF    A    LANDED    PROPRIETOR 

it  might  do,  as  long  as  it  stands  and  holds  together,"  he 
concluded,  evidently  satisfied  with  his  argument. 

Nekhlyudov  was  annoyed  and  pained  because  Churis 
had  come  to  such  a  state  without  having  asked  his  aid 
before,  whereas  he  had  not  once  since  his  arrival  refused 
the  peasants  anything,  and  had  requested  that  everybody 
should  come  to  him  directly  if  they  needed  anything.  He 
was  even  vexed  at  the  peasant,  angrily  shrugged  his  shoul- 
ders, and  frowned  ;  but  the  sight  of  wretchedness  about  him, 
and  Churis's  calm  and  self-satisfied  countenance  amidst 
this  wretchedness,  changed  his  vexation  into  a  melancholy, 
hopeless  feeling. 

"  Now,  Ivan,  why  did  you  not  tell  me  before  ? "  he  re- 
marked reproachfully,  sitting  down  on  a  dirty,  crooked 
bench. 

"  I  did  not  dare  to,  your  Grace,"  answered  Churis,  with 
the  same  scarcely  perceptible  smile,  shuffling  his  black, 
bare  feet  on  the  uneven  dirt  floor ;  but  he  said  it  so  boldly 
and  quietly  that  it  was  hard  to  believe  that  he  had  been 
afraid  to  approach  the  master. 

"  We  are  peasants  :  how  dare  we  —  "  began  the  woman, 
sobbing. 

"  Stop  your  prattling,"  Cliuris  again  turned  to  her. 

"  You  cannot  live  in  this  hut,  that  is  impossible  ! "  said 
Nekhlyudov,  after  a  moment's  silence.  "  This  is  what  we 
will  do,  my  friend  —  " 

"  I  am  listening,  sir,"  Churis  interrupted  him. 

"  Have  you  seen  the  stone  huts,  with  the  hollow  walls, 
that  I  have  had  built  in  the  new  hamlet  ? " 

"  Of  course  I  have,  sir,"  replied  Churis,  showing  his 
good  white  teeth  in  his  smile.  "  We  marvelled  a  great 
deal  as  they  were  buUding  them,  —  wonderful  huts  !  The 
boys  made  sport  of  them,  saying  that  the  hollow  walls 
were  storehouses,  to  keep  rats  away.  Fine  huts  !  "  he  con- 
cluded, with  an  expression  of  sarcastic  incredulity,  shaking 
his  head.     "  Regular  jails  ! " 


A    MORNING    OF    A    LANDED    PROPRIETOR        15 

"  Yes,  excellent  huts,  dry  and  warm,  and  not  so  likely 
to  take  fire,"  retorted  the  master,  with  a  frown  on  his 
youthful  face,  obviously  dissatisfied  with  the  peasant's 
sarcasm. 

"  No  question  about  that,  your  Grace,  fine  huts." 

"  Now,  one  of  those  huts  is  all  ready.  It  is  a  thirty- 
foot  hut,  with  vestibules  and  a  storeroom,  ready  for  occu- 
pancy, I  will  let  you  have  it  at  your  price ;  you  will  pay 
me  when  you  can,"  said  the  master,  with  a  self-satisfied 
smile,  which  he  could  not  keep  back,  at  the  thought  that 
he  was  doing  a  good  act.  "  You  will  break  down  your 
old  hut,"  he  continued  ;  "  it  will  do  yet  for  a  barn.  We 
will  transfer  the  outhouses  in  some  way.  There  is  excel- 
lent water  there.  I  will  cut  a  garden  for  you  out  of  the 
cleared  ground,  and  also  will  lay  out  a  piece  of  land  for 
you  in  three  parcels.  You  will  be  happy  there.  Well, 
are  you  not  satisfied  ? "  asked  Nekhlyudov,  when  he  no- 
ticed that  the  moment  he  mentioned  changing  quarters 
Churis  stood  in  complete  immobility  and,  without  a  smile, 
gazed  at  the  floor. 

"  It  is  your  Grace's  will,"  he  answered,  without  lifting 
his  eyes. 

The  old  woman  moved  forward,  as  if  touched  to  the 
quick,  and  was  about  to  say  something,  but  her  husband 
anticipated  her. 

"  It  is  your  Grace's  will,"  he  repeated,  firmly,  and  at  the 
same  time  humbly,  looking  at  his  master,  and  shaking  his 
hair,  "  but  it  will  not  do  for  us  to  live  in  the  new  hamlet." 

"  Why  ? " 

"  No,  your  Grace !  We  are  badly  off  here,  but  if  you 
transfer  us  there,  we  sha'n't  stay  peasants  long.  What 
kind  of  peasants  can  we  be  there  ?  It  is  impossible  to 
live  there,  saving  your  Grace ! " 

"  Why  not  ? " 

"  We  shall  be  completely  ruined,  your  Grace ! " 

"  But  why  is  it  impossible  to  live  there  ?  " 


16         A    MORNING    OF    A    LANDED    PROPRIETOR 

"  What  life  will  it  be  ?  You  judge  for  yourself :  the 
place  has  never  been  iuhabited ;  the  quality  of  the  water 
is  unknown ;  there  is  no  place  to  drive  the  cattle  to. 
Our  hemp  plots  have  been  manured  here  since  time 
immemorial,  but  how  is  it  there  ?  Why,  there  is  nothing 
but  barrenness  there.  Neither  fences,  nor  kilns,  nor  sheds, 
—  nothing.  We  shall  be  ruined,  your  Grace,  if  you  insist 
upon  our  going  there,  completely  ruined  !  It  is  a  new 
place,  an  unknown  place  —  "  he  repeated,  with  a  melan- 
choly, but  firm,  shake  of  his  head. 

Nekhlyudov  began  to  prove  to  the  peasant  that  the 
transfer  would  be  very  profitable  to  him,  that  fences  and 
sheds  would  be  put  up,  that  the  water  was  good  there, 
and  so  forth  ;  but  Churis's  dull  silence  embarrassed  him, 
and  he  felt  that  he  was  not  saying  what  he  ought  to. 
Churis  did  not  reply ;  but  when  the  master  grew  silent, 
he  remarked,  with  a  light  smile,  that  it  would  be  best  to 
settle  the  old  domestic  servants  and  Alfehka  the  fool  in 
that  hamlet,  to  keep  a  watch  on  the  grain. 

"Now  that  would  be  excellent,"  he  remarked,  and 
smiled  again.     "  It  is  a  useless  affair,  your  Grace  ! " 

"  What  of  it  if  it  is  an  uninhabited  place  ? ""  Nekhlyudov 
expatiated,  patiently.  "  Here  was  once  an  uninhabited 
place,  and  people  are  living  in  it  now.  And  so  you  had 
better  settle  there  in  a  lucky  hour  —  Yes,  you  had  bet- 
ter settle  there  —  " 

"  But,  your  Grace,  there  is  no  comparison ! "  Churis 
answered  with  animation,  as  if  afraid  that  the  master 
might  have  taken  his  final  resolution.  "  Here  is  a  cheery 
place,  a  gay  place,  and  we  are  used  to  it,  and  to  the  road, 
and  the  pond,  where  the  women  wash  the  clothes  and  the 
cattle  go  to  water ;  and  all  our  peasant  surroundings  have 
been  here  since  time  immemorial,  —  the  threshing-floor, 
the  garden,  and  the  willows  that  my  parents  have  set  out. 
My  grandfather  and  father  have  given  their  souls  to  God 
here,  and  I  ask  nothing  else,  your  Grace,  but  to  be  able 


A    MORNING    OF    A    LANDED    PROPRIETOR        17 

to  eud  my  days  here.  If  it  should  be  your  favour  to 
meud  the  hut,  we  shall  be  greatly  obliged  to  your  Grace ; 
if  not,  we  shall  manage  to  eud  our  days  in  the  old  hut. 
Let  us  pray  to  the  Lord  all  our  days,"  he  continued, 
making  low  obeisances.     "  Drive  us  not  from  our  nest,  sir." 

While  Churis  was  speaking,  ever  louder  and  louder  sobs 
were  heard  under  the  beds,  in  the  place  where  his  wife 
stood,  and  when  her  husband  pronounced  the  word  "  sir," 
his  wife  suddenly  rushed  out  and,  weeping,  threw  herself 
down  at  the  master's  feet : 

"  Do  not  ruin  us,  benefactor !  You  are  our  father,  you 
are  our  mother  !  "What  business  have  we  to  move  ?  We 
are  old  and  lonely  people.  Both  God  and  you  — "  She 
burst  out  in  tears. 

Nekhlyiidov  jumped  up  from  his  seat,  and  wanted  to 
raise  the  old  woman,  but  she  struck  the  earth  floor  with 
a  certain  voluptuousness  of  despair,  and  pushed  away  the 
master's  hand. 

"  What  are  you  doing  ?  Get  up,  please  !  If  you  do 
not  wish,  you  do  not  have  to,"  he  said,  waving  his  hands, 
and  retreating  to  the  door. 

When  Nekhlyiidov  seated  himself  again  on  the  bench, 
and  silence  reigned  in  the  hut,  interrupted  only  by  the 
blubbering  of  the  old  woman,  who  had  again  removed 
herself  to  her  place  under  the  beds,  and  was  there  wiping 
off  her  tears  with  the  sleeve  of  her  shirt,  the  young 
proprietor  comprehended  what  meaning  the  dilapidated 
wretched  hut,  the  broken  well  with  the  dirty  puddle,  the 
rotting  stables  and  barns,  and  the  spht  willows  that  could 
be  seen  through  the  crooked  window,  had  for  Churis  and 
his  wife,  and  a  heavy,  melancholy  feeling  came  over  him, 
and  he  was  embarrassed. 

"  Why  did  you  not  say  at  the  meeting  of  last  week  that 
you  needed  a  hut  ?  I  do  not  know  now  how  to  help  you. 
I  told  you  all  at  the  first  meeting  that  I  was  settled  in  the 
estate,  and  that  I  meant  to  devote  my  life  to  you ;  that  I 


18        A    MORNING    OF    A    LANDED    PROPRIETOR 

was  prepared  to  deprive  myselr  of  everything  iu  order  to 
see  you  contented  and  happy,  —  and  I  vow  before  God 
that  I  will  keep  my  word,"  said  the  youthful  proprietor, 
unconscious  of  the  fact  that  such  ebullitions  were  unable 
to  gain  the  confidence  of  any  man,  least  of  all  a  Russian, 
who  loves  not  words  but  deeds,  and  who  is  averse  to  the 
expression  of  feelings,  however  beautiful. 

The  simple-hearted  young  man  was  so  happy  in  the 
sentiment  which  he  was  experiencing  that  he  could  not 
help  pouring  it  out. 

Churis  bent  his  head  sideways  and,  bhnking  slowly, 
listened  with  forced  attention  to  his  master  as  to  a  man 
who  must  be  listened  to,  though  he  may  say  things  that 
are  not  very  agreeable  and  have  not  the  least  reference  to 
the  listener. 

"  But  I  cannot  give  everybody  all  they  ask  of  me.  If 
I  did  not  refuse  anybody  who  asks  me  for  timber,  I  should 
soon  be  left  with  none  myself,  and  would  be  unable  to 
give  to  him  who  is  really  in  need  of  it.  That  is  why  I 
have  put  aside  a  part  of  the  forest  to  be  used  for  mending 
the  peasant  buildings,  and  have  turned  it  over  to  the 
Commune.  That  forest  is  no  longer  mine,  but  yours, 
the  peasants',  and  I  have  no  say  about  it,  but  the  Com- 
mune controls  it  as  it  sees  fit.  Come  this  evening  to  the 
meeting ;  I  will  tell  the  Commune  of  your  need :  if  it 
resolves  to  give  you  a  new  hut,  it. is  well,  but  I  have  no 
forest.  I  am  anxious  to  help  you  with  all  my  heart ;  but 
if  you  do  not  want  to  move,  the  Commune  will  have  to 
iirrange  it  for  you,  and  not  I.     Do  you  understand  me  ? " 

"  We  are  very  well  satisfied  with  your  favour,"  answered 
the  embarrassed  Churis.  "  If  you  will  deign  to  let  me 
have  a  little  timber  for  the  outbuildings,  I  will  manage 
one  way  or  other.     The  Commune?  Well,  we  know  —  " 

"  No,  you  had  better  come." 

"  Your  servant,  sir.  I  shall  be  there.  Why  should  I 
not  go  ?     Only  I  will  not  ask  the  Commune  for  anything." 


IV. 

The  young  proprietor  evidently  wanted  to  ask  the 
peasant  people  something  else ;  he  did  not  rise  from 
the  bench,  and  with  indecision  looked  now  at  Churis,  and 
now  into  the  empty,  cold  oven. 

"  Have  you  had  your  dinner  ?  "  he  finally  asked  them. 

Under  Churis's  moustache  played  a  sarcastic  smile,  as 
though  it  amused  him  to  hear  the  master  ask  such  foolish 
questions ;  he  did  not  answer. 

"  What  dinner,  benefactor  ?  "  said  the  old  woman,  with 
a  deep  sigh.  "  We  have  eaten  some  bread.  That  was 
our  dinner.  There  was  no  time  to-day  to  go  for  some 
sorrel,  and  so  there  was  nothing  to  make  soup  with,  and 
what  kvas  there  was  I  gave  to  the  children." 

"  To-day  we  have  a  hunger  fast,  your  Grace,"  Churis 
chimed  in,  glossing  his  wife's  words.  "  Bread  and  onions, 
—  such  is  our  peasant  food.  Thank  the  Lord  I  have 
some  little  bread  ;  by  your  favour  it  has  lasted  until  now  ; 
but  the  rest  of  our  peasants  have  not  even  that.  The 
onions  are  a  failure  this  year.  We  sent  a  few  days  ago 
to  Mikhaylo  the  gardener,  but  he  asks  a  penny  a  bunch, 
and  we  are  too  poor  for  that.  We  have  not  been  to 
church  sincp  Easter,  and  we  have  no  money  with  which 
to  buy  a  candle  for  St.  Nicholas." 

Nekhlyildov  had  long  known,  not  by  hearsay,  nor 
trusting  the  words  of  others,  but  by  experience,  all 
the  extreme  wretchedness  of  his  peasants ;  but  all  that 
reality  was  so  incompatible  with  his  education,  his  turn  of 
mind,  and  manner  of  life,  that  he  involuntarily  forgot  the 

19 


20        A    MORNING    OF    A    LANDED    PROPEIETOR 

truth ;  and  every  time  when  he  was  reminded  of  it  in  a 
vivid  and  palpable  manner,  as  now,  his  heart  felt  intoler- 
ably heavy  and  sad,  as  though  he  were  tormented  by  the 
recollection  of  some  unatoned  crime  which  he  had  com- 
mitted. 

"  Why  are  you  so  poor  ?  "  he  said,  involuntarily  express- 
ing his  tliought. 

"  What  else  are  we  to  be,  your  Grace,  if  not  poor  ? 
You  know  yourself  what  kind  of  soil  we  have :  clay  and 
clumps,  and  we  must  have  angered  God,  for  since  the 
cholera  we  have  had  very  poor  crops  of  grain.  The 
meadows  and  fields  have  grown  less ;  some  have  been 
taken  into  the  estate,  others  have  been  directly  attached 
to  the  manorial  fields.  I  am  all  alone  and  old.  I  would 
gladly  try  to  do  something,  but  I  have  no  strength.  My 
old  woman  is  sick,  and  every  year  she  bears  a  girl ;  they 
have  to  be  fed.  I  am  working  hard  all  by  myself,  and 
there  are  seven  souls  in  the  house.  It  is  a  sin  before 
God  our  Lord,  but  I  often  think  it  would  be  well  if  he 
took  some  of  them  away  as  soon  as  possible.  It  would  be 
easier  for  me  and  for  them  too,  it  would  be  better  than 
to  suffer  here  —  " 

"  Oh,  oh ! "  the  woman  sighed  aloud,  as  though  con- 
firming her  husband's  words. 

"  Here  is  my  whole  help,"  continued  Churis,  pointing  to 
a  flaxen-haired,  shaggy  boy  of  some  seven  years,  with  an 
immense  belly,  who,  softly  creaking  the  door,  had  just 
entered  timidly,  and,  morosely  fixing  his  wondering  eyes 
upon  the  master,  with  both  his  hands  was  holding  on  to 
his  father's  shirt.  "  Here  is  my  entire  help,"  continued 
Churis,  in  a  sonorous  voice,  passing-  his  rough  hand 
through  his  child's  hair.  "  It  will  be  awhile  before  he 
will  be  able  to  do  anything,  and  in  the  meantime  the 
work  is  above  my  strengtli.  It  is  not  so  much  my  age 
as  the  rupture  that  is  undoing  me.  In  bad  weather  it 
just  makes  me  scream.     I  ought  to  have  given  up  the 


A    MORNING    OF    A    LANDED    PROPRIETOR        21 

land  long  ago,  and  been  accounted  an  old  man.  Here  is 
Ermilov,  Deinkin,  Zyabrev,  —  they  are  all  younger  than 
I,  but  they  have  long  ago  given  up  the  land.  But  I  have 
no  one  to  whom  I  might  turn  over  the  land,  —  that's 
where  the  trouble  is.  I  must  support  the  family,  so  I  am 
struggling,  your  Grace." 

"  I  would  gladly  make  it  easier  for  you,  really.  How 
can  I  ?  "  said  the  young  master,  sympathetically,  looking 
at  the  peasant. 

"  How  make  it  easier  ?  Of  course,  he  who  holds  land 
must  do  the  manorial  work ;  that  is  an  established  rule. 
I  shall  wait  for  the  little  fellow  to  grow  up.  If  it  is  your 
will,  excuse  him  from  school ;  for  a  few  days  ago  the  vil- 
lage scribe  came  and  said  that  your  Grace  wanted  him  to 
come  to  school.  Do  excuse  him  :  what  mind  can  he 
have,  your  Grace  ?  He  is  too  young,  and  has  not  much 
sense  yet." 

"  No ;  this,  my  friend,  must  be,"  said  the  master.  "  Your 
boy  can  comprehend,  it  is  time  for  him  to  study.  I  am 
saying  it  for  your  own  good.  You  judge  yourself :  when 
he  grows  up,  and  becomes  a  householder,  he  w^ll  know 
how  to  read  and  write,  and  he  will  read  in  church, — 
everything  will  go  well  with  you,  with  God's  aid,"  said 
Nekhlyiidov,  trying  to  express  himself  as  clearly  as  pos- 
sible, and,  at  the  same  time,  blusliing  and  stammering. 

"  No  doubt,  your  Grace,  you  do  not  wish  us  any  harm ; 
but  there  is  nobody  at  home;  my  wife  and  I  have  to 
work  in  the  manorial  field,  and,  small  though  he  is,  he 
helps  us  some,  by  driving  the  cattle  home,  and  taking  the 
horses  to  water.  As  little  as  he  is,  he  is  a  peasant  all 
the  same,"  and  Churis,  smiling,  took  hold  of  his  boy's 
nose  between  his  thick  fingers,  and  cleaned  it. 

"  Still,  send  him  when  he  is  at  home,  and  has  time, — 
do  you  hear  ?  —  without  fail." 

Churis  drew  a  deep  sigh,  and  did  not  reply. 


"  There  is  something  else  I  wanted  to  tell  you,"  said 
Nekhlyiidov.  "  Why  has  not  your  manure  beeu  re- 
moved ? " 

"  What  manure  is  there  to  take  away,  your  Grace  ? 
How  many  animals  have  I  ?  A  little  mare  and  a  colt, 
and  the  young  heifer  I  gave  last  autumn  to  the  porter ; 
that  is  all  the  animals  I  have." 

"  You  have  so  few  animals,  and  yet  you  gave  your 
heifer  away  ? "  the  master  asked,  in  amazement. 

"  What  was  I  to  feed  her  on  ? " 

"  Have  you  not  enough  straw  to  feed  a  cow  with  ? 
Everybody  else  has." 

"  Others  have  manured  land,  and  my  land  is  mere  clay 
that  you  can't  do  anything  with." 

"  But  that  is  what  your  manure  is  for,  to  take  away 
the  clay :  and  the  soil  will  produce  grain,  and  you  will 
have  something  to  feed  your  animals  with." 

"  But  if  there  are  no  animals,  where  is  the  manure  to 
come  from  ? " 

"  This  is  a  strange  cercle  vicieux,"  thought  Nekhlyudov, 
but  was  at  a  loss  how  to  advise  the  peasant. 

"  And  then  again,  your  Grace,  not  the  manure  makes 
the  grain  grow,  but  God,"  continued  Churls.  "  Now,  last 
year  I  got  six  ricks  out  of  one  unmanured  eighth,  but 
from  another  dressed  eighth  I  did  not  reap  as  much  as  a 
cock.  God  alone ! "  he  added,  with  a  sigh.  "  And  the 
cattle  somehow  do  not  thrive  in  our  yard.  They  have 
died  for  six  years  in  succession.     Last  year  a  heifer  died, 

22 


A    MORNING    OF    A    LANDED    PROPRIETOR        23 

the  other  I  sold,  for  we  had  nothing  to  live  on  ;  two  years 
ago  a  fine  cow  died ;  when  she  was  driven  home  from  the 
herd,  there  was  nothing  the  matter  with  her,  but  she  sud- 
denly staggered,  and  staggered,  and  off  she  went.  Just 
my  bad  luck  ! " 

"  Well,  my  friend,  you  may  say  what  you  please  about 
not  having  any  cattle,  because  you  have  no  feed,  and  about 
having  no  feed,  because  you  have  no  cattle,  —  here  is  some 
money  for  a  cow,"  said  Nekhlyiidov,  blushing,  and  taking 
from  his  trousers'  pocket  a  package  of  crumpled  bills,  and 
running  through  it.  "  Buy  yourself  a  cow,  with  my  luck, 
and  get  the  feed  from  the  barn,  —  I  will  give  orders. 
Be  sure  and  have  a  cow  by  next  Sunday,  —  I  will 
look  in." 

Churis  smiled  and  shuffled  his  feet,  and  for  so  long  did 
not  stretch  out  his  hand  for  the  money,  that  Neklilyiidov 
put  it  on  the  end  of  the  table,  and  reddened  even 
more. 

"  We  are  very  well  satisfied  with  your  favour,"  said 
Churis,  with  his  usual,  slightly  sarcastic  smile. 

The  old  woman  sighed  heavily  several  times,  standing 
under  the  beds,  and  seemed  to  be  uttering  a  prayer. 

The  young  master  felt  embarrassed ;  he  hastily  rose 
from  his  bench,  walked  out  into  the  vestibule,  and  called 
Churis.  The  sight  of  a  man  to  whom  he  had  done  a 
good  turn  was  so  pleasant,  that  he  did  not  wish  to  part 
from  it  so  soon. 

"  I  am  glad  I  can  help  you,"  he  said,  stopping  near  the 
well.  "  It  is  all  right  to  help  you,  because  I  know  you 
are  not  a  lazy  man.  You  will  work,  and  I  will  help  you ; 
with  God's  aid  things  will  improve." 

"  There  is  no  place  for  improvement,  your  Grace,"  said 
Churis,  suddenly  assuming  a  serious,  and  even  an  austere, 
expression  on  his  face,  as  though  dissatisfied  with  the 
master's  supposition  that  he  might  improve.  "  I  lived 
with    my  brothers   when   my  father  was  alive,  and  we 


24         A    MORNING    OF    A    LANDED    PROPRIETOR 

suffered  no  want ;  but  when  he  died,  and  we  separated, 
things  went  from  worse  to  worse.  It  is  all  because  we 
are  alone ! " 

"  But  why  did  you  separate  ?" 

"  All  on  account  of  the  women,  your  Grace.  At  that 
time  your  grandfather  was  not  living,  or  they  would  not 
have  dared  to ;  then  there  was  real  order.  He  looked 
after  everything,  like  you,  —  and  we  should  not  have 
dared  to  think  of  separating.  Your  grandfather  did  not 
let  the  peasants  off  so  easily.  But  after  him  the  estate 
was  managed  by  Audrey  Ilich,  —  may  he  not  live  by 
this  memory,  —  he  was  a  drunkard  and  an  unreKable 
man.  We  went  to  him  once,  and  a  second  time.  '  There 
is  no  getting  along  with  the  women,'  we  said,  '  let  us 
separate.'  Well,  he  gave  it  to  us,  but,  in  the  end,  the 
women  had  their  way,  and  we  separated ;  and  you  know 
what  a  peasant  is  all  by  himself !  Well,  there  was  no 
order  here,  and  Audrey  Ilich  treated  us  as  he  pleased. 
*  Let  there  be  everything ! '  but  he  never  asked  where  a 
peasant  was  to  get  it.  Then  they  increased  the  capita- 
tion tax,  and  began  to  collect  more  provisions  for  the 
table,  but  the  land  grew  less,  and  the  crops  began  to  fail. 
And  when  it  came  to  resurveying  the  land,  he  attached 
our  manured  land  to  the  manorial  strip,  the  rascal,  and 
he  left  us  just  to  die ! 

"  Your  father  —  the  kingdom  of  heaven  be  his  —  was 
a  good  master,  but  we  hardly  ever  saw  him :  he  lived  all 
the  time  in  Moscow ;  of  course,  we  had  to  carry  supplies 
there  frequently.  There  may  have  been  bad  roads,  and 
no  fodder,  but  we  had  to  go !  How  could  the  master 
get  along  without  it  ?  We  can't  complain  about  that, 
only  there  was  no  order.  Now,  your  Grace  admits  every 
peasant  into  your  presence,  and  we  are  different  people, 
and  the  steward  is  a  different  man.  But  before,  the 
estate  was  left  in  guardianship,  and  there  was  no  real 
master ;  the  guardian  was  master,  and  Ilich  was  master. 


A  MOKNING  OF  A  LANDED  PROPRIETOR   25 

and  his  wife  was  mistress,  and   the  scribe  was    master. 
The  peasants  came  to  grief,  oh,  to  so  much  grief ! " 

Again  Nekhlyudov  experienced  a  feehng  akin  to  shame 
or  to  pricks  of  conscience.  He  raised  his  hat  a  little,  and 
walked  away. 


VL 

"  YuKHVANKA  the  Shrewd  wants  to  sell  a  horse," 
Nekhlyudov  read  in  his  note-book,  and  crossed  the  street. 
Yukhvauka's  hut  was  carefully  thatched  with  straw  from 
the  manorial  barn,  and  was  constructed  of  fresh,  light 
gray  aspen  timbers  (also  from  the  manorial  forest),  with 
two  shutters  painted  red,  and  a  porch  with  a  roof,  and  a 
quaint  shingle  balustrade  of  an  artistic  design.  The  ves- 
tibule and  the  "  cold  "  hut  were  also  in  proper  condition ; 
but  the  general  aspect  of  sufticiency  and  well-being, 
which  this  collection  of  buildings  had,  was  somewhat  im- 
paired by  the  outhouse  which  leaned  against  the  gate, 
with  its  unfinished  wicker  fence  and  open  thatch  which 
could  be  seen  from  behind  it. 

At  the  same  time  that  Nekhlyudov  was  approach- 
ing the  porch  from  one  side,  two  peasant  women  came 
from  the  other  with  a  full  tub.  One  of  them  was  the  wife, 
the  other  the  mother  of  Yukhvanka  the  Shrewd.  The 
first  was  a  plump,  red-cheeked  woman,  with  an  unusually 
well-developed  bosom,  and  broad,  fleshy  cheek-bones.  She 
wore  a  clean  shirt,  embroidered  on  the  sleeves  and  collar, 
an  apron  similarly  decorated,  a  new  hnen  skirt,  leather 
shoes,  glass  beads,  and  a  foppish  square  head-gear  made 
of  red  paper  and  spangles. 

The  end  of  the  yoke  did  not  shake,  but  lay  firmly  on 
her  broad  and  solid  shoulder.  The  light  exertion  which 
was  noticeable  in  her  ruddy  face,  in  the  carvature  of  her 
back,  and  in  the  measured  motion  of  her  arms  and  legs, 
pointed  to  extraordinary  health  and  masculine  strength. 

26 


A    MORNING    OF    A    LANDED    PROPRIETOR        27 

Yukhvanka's  mother,  who  was  carrying  the  other  end 
of  the  yoke,  was,  on  the  contrary,  one  of  those  old  women 
who  seem  to  have  reached  the  extreme  limit  of  old  age 
and  disintegration  possible  in  living  man.  Her  bony 
frame,  covered  with  a  black,  torn  shirt  and  colourless 
skirt,  was  so  bent  that  the  yoke  rested  more  on  her  back 
than  on  her  shoulder.  Both  her  hands,  with  the  dis- 
torted fingers  of  which  she  seemed  to  cling  to  the  yoke, 
were  of  a  dark  brown  colour,  and  seemed  incapable  of 
unbending;  her  drooping  head,  which  was  wrapped  in  a 
rag,  bore  the  most  monstrous  traces  of  wretchedness  and 
old  age.  From  under  her  narrow  brow,  which  was  fur- 
rowed in  all  directions  by  deep  wrinkles,  two  red  eyes, 
bereft  of  their  lashes,  looked  dimly  to  the  ground.  One 
yellow  tooth  protruded  from  her  upper  sunken  lip,  and, 
shaking  continually,  now  and  then  collided  with  her 
sharp  chin.  The  wrinkles  on  the  lower  part  of  her  face 
and  throat  resembled  pouches  that  kept  on  shaking  with 
every  motion.  She  breathed  heavily  and  hoarsely ;  but 
her  bare,  distorted  feet,  though  apparently  shuffling  with 
difficulty  against  the  ground,  moved  evenly  one  after 
the  other. 


Having  almost  collided  with  the  master,  the  young 
woman  deftly  put  down  the  tub,  looked  abashed,  made  a 
bow,  glanced  timidly  at  the  master  with  her  sparkling 
eyes,  and  trying  with  the  sleeve  of  her  embroidered  shirt 
to  conceal  a  light  smile,  and  tripping  in  her  leather  shoes, 
ran  up  the  steps. 

"  Mother,  take  the  yoke  to  Aunt  Nastasya,"  she  said, 
stopping  in  the  door  and  turning  to  the  old  woman. 

The  modest  young  proprietor  looked  sternly,  but  atten- 
tively, at  the  ruddy  woman,  frowned,  and  turned  to  the 
old  w^omau,  who  straightened  out  the  yoke  with  her 
crooked  fingers,  and,  slinging  it  over  her  shoulder,  obedi- 
ently directed  her  steps  to  the  neighbouring  hut. 

"  Is  your  son  at  home  ? "  asked  the  master. 

The  old  woman  bent  her  arched  figure  still  more, 
bowed,  and  w^as  about  to  say  something,  but  she  put  her 
hands  to  her  mouth  and  coughed  so  convulsively  that 
Nekhlyudov  did  not  wait  for  the  answer,  and  walked  into 
the  hut. 

Yukhvanka,  who  was  sitting  in  the  red  ^  corner  on  a 
bench,  rushed  to  the  oven  the  moment  he  espied  the  mas- 
ter, as  if  trying  to  hide  from  him ;  he  hastily  pushed 
something  on  the  beds,  and  twitching  his  mouth  and  eyes, 
pressed  against  the  wall,  as  if  to  make  way  for  the  master. 

Yukhvanka  was  a  blond,  about  thirty  years  of  age, 
spare,  slender,  with  a  young  beard  that  ran  down  to  a 
point ;  he  would  have  been  a  handsome  man  but  for  his 

^The  best  corner,  corresponding  to  a  sitting-room,  is  called  "  red." 

28 


A    MORNING    OF    A   LANDED    PROPRIETOR        29 

fleeting  hazel  eyes  which  looked  unpleasantly  beneath 
his  wrinkled  brows,  and  for  the  absence  of  two  front  teeth, 
which  was  very  noticeable  because  his  lips  were  short  and 
in  continuous  motion.  He  was  clad  in  a  holiday  shirt 
with  bright  red  gussets,  striped  calico  drawers,  and  heavy 
boots  with  wrinkled  boot-legs. 

The  interior  of  Yukhvanka's  hut  was  not  so  small  and 
gloomy  as  Churis's,  though  it  was  as  close,  and  sraelled  of 
smoke  and  sheepskins,  and  the  peasant  clothes  and  uten- 
sils were  scattered  about  in  the  same  disorderly  fashion. 
Two  things  strangely  arrested  the  attention :  a  small 
dented  samovar,  which  stood  on  a  shelf,  and  a  black 
frame  with  a  remnant  of  a  glass,  and  a  portrait  of  a  gen- 
eral in  a  red  uniform,  which  was  hanging  near  the  images. 

Nekhlyudov  looked  with  dissatisfaction  at  the  samovar, 
at  the  general's  portrait,  and  at  the  beds,  where  from 
under  a  rag  peeped  out  the  end  of  a  brass-covered  pipe, 
and  turned  to  the  peasant. 

"  Good  morning,  Epifan,"  he  said,  looking  into  his  eyes. 

Epifan  bowed,  and  mumbled,  "We  wish  you  health,  'r 
Grace,"  pronouncing  the  last  words  with  peculiar  tender- 
ness, and  his  eyes  in  a  twinkle  surveyed  the  whole  form 
of  the  master,  the  hut,  the  floor,  and  the  ceiling,  not  stop- 
ping at  anything ;  then  he  hurriedly  walked  up  to  the 
beds,  pulled  down  a  coat  from  them,  and  began  to  put 
it  on. 

"  Why  are  you  dressing  yourself  ? "  said  Nekhlyiidov, 
seating  himself  on  a  bench,  and  obviously  trying  to  look 
as  stern  as  possible  at  Epifan. 

"  Please,  'r  Grace,  how  can  I  ?  It  seems  to  me  we 
know  —  " 

"  I  came  in  to  see  why  you  must  sell  a  horse,  how 
many  horses  you  have,  and  what  horse  it  is  you  want  to 
sell,"  dryly  said  the  master,  evidently  repeating  questions 
prepared  in  advance. 

"  We  are  well  satisfied  with  'r  Grace,  because  you  have 


30        A   MORNING   OF    A    LANDED    PROPRIETOR 

deigned  to  call  on  me,  a  peasant,"  replied  Yukhvanka, 
casting  rapid  glances  at  the  general's  portrait,  at  the  oven, 
at  the  master's  boots,  and  at  all  objects  except  Nekhlyii- 
dov's  face.     "  We  always  pray  God  for  'r  Grace  —  " 

"  Why  are  you  selling  a  horse  ? "  repeated  Nekhlyudov, 
raising  his  voice,  and  clearing  his  throat. 

Yukhvanka  sighed,  shook  his  hair  (his  glance  again 
surveyed  the  whole  hut),  and,  noticing  the  cat  that  had 
been  quietly  purring  on  a  bench,  he  called  out  to  her, 
"  Scat,  you  scamp ! "  and  hurriedly  turned  to  the  master. 
"The  horse,  'r  Grace,  which  is  useless —  If  it  were  a 
good  animal  I  would  not  sell  it,  'r  Grace." 

"  How  many  horses  have  you  in  all  ? " 

"  Three,  'r  Grace." 

"  Have  you  any  colts  ? " 

"  Why,  yes,  'r  Grace  !     I  have  one  colt/' 


VIII. 

"  Come,  show  me  your  horses !  Are  they  in  the 
yard  ?  " 

"  Yes,  'r  Grace.  I  have  done  as  I  have  been  ordered 
to,  'r  Grace.  Would  we  dare  to  disobey  'r  Grace  ?  Yakov 
Alpatych  commanded  me  not  to  let  the  horses  out  to 
pasture  for  the  next  day,  as  the  prince  wanted  to  inspect 
them,  so  we  did  not  let  them  out.  We  do  not  dare  dis- 
obey 'r  Grace." 

As  Nekhlyiidov  walked  out  of  the  door,  Yukhvanka 
got  the  pipe  down  from  the  beds,  and  threw  it  behind  the 
oven.  His  lips  quivered  just  as  restlessly,  though  the 
master  was  not  looking  at  him. 

A  lean  gray  mare  was  rummaging  through  some  musty 
hay  under  the  shed  ;  a  two-months-old,  long-legged  colt  of 
an  indefinable  colour,  with  bluish  feet  and  mouth,  did  not 
leave  her  mother's  thin  tail  that  was  all  stuck  up  with 
burrs.  In  the  middle  of  the  yard  stood,  blinking  and 
pensively  lowering  his  head,  a  thick-bellied  chestnut  geld- 
ing, apparently  a  good  peasant  horse. 

"  Are  these  all  your  horses  ? " 

"  By  no  means,  'r  Grace.  Here  is  a  little  mare  and  a 
little  colt,"  answered  Yukhvanka,  pointing  to  the  horses 
which  the  master  could  not  help  having  noticed. 

"  I  see  that.     Now,  which  one  do  you  want  to  sell  ? " 

"  This  one,  'r  Grace,"  he  answered,  waving  with  the  flap 
of  his  coat  in  the  direction  of  the  drowsy  gelding,  con- 
tinually blinking,  and  twitching  his  lips.  The  gelding 
opened  his  eyes  and  lazily  turned  his  back  to  him, 

31 


32         A    MORNING    OF    A   LANDED    PROPRIETOR 

"  He  does  not  look  old,  and  is  apparently  a  sound 
horse,"  said  Nekhlyildov.  "  Catch  him,  and  show  me  his 
teeth  !     I  will  find  out  if  he  is  old." 

"  It  is  impossible  for  one  person  to  catch  him,  'r  Grace. 
The  whole  beast  is  not  worth  a  penny.  He  has  a  temper : 
he  bites  and  kicks,  'r  Grace,"  answered  Yukhvanka,  smil- 
ing merrily,  and  turning  his  eyes  in  all  directions. 

"  What  nonsense  !     Catch  him,  I  tell  you  ! " 

Yukhvanka  smiled  for  a  long  time,  and  shuffled  his 
feet,  and  not  until  Nekhlyudov  cried  out  in  anger, 
"  Well,  will  you  ? "  did  he  run  under  the  shed  and  bring 
a  halter.  He  began  to  run  after  the  horse,  frightening 
him,  and  walking  up  to  him  from  behind,  and  not  in 
front. 

The  young  master  was  evidently  disgusted,  and,  no 
doubt,  wanted  to  show  his  agility.  "  Giye  me  the  halter ! " 
he  said. 

"  I  pray,  'r  Grace  !     How  can  you  ?  —  " 

But  Nekhlyudov  walked  up  to  the  horse's  head  and, 
suddenly  taking  hold  of  his  ears,  bent  it  down  with  such 
a  force  that  the  gelding,  who,  as  could  be  seen,  was  a 
very  gentle  peasant  horse,  tottered  and  groaned,  in  his  at- 
tempt to  tear  himself  away.  Wlien  Nekhlyudov  noticed 
that  it  was  unnecessary  to  use  such  force,  and  when  he 
glanced  at  Yukhvanka,  who  did  not  cease  smiling,  the 
thought,  so  offensive  at  his  years,  occurred  to  him  that 
Yukhvanka  was  making  fun  of  him  and  mentally  regard- 
ing him  as  a  child.  He  blushed,  let  the  horse  go,  and 
without  the  help  of  a  halter  opened  his  mouth  and  ex- 
amined his  teeth :  the  teeth  were  sound,  the  crowns  full, 
and  the  young  proprietor  was  enough  informed  to  know 
that  all  this  meant  that  the  horse  was  young. 

Yukhvanka,  in  the  meantime,  had  gone  under  the 
shed,  and,  noticing  that  the  harrow  was  not  in  place,  he 
hfted  it  and  put  it  on  edge  against  the  fence. 

"  Come  here !  "  cried  the  master,  with  an  expression  of 


A   MOENING    OF    A    LANDED    PROPRIETOR        33 

childlike  annoyance  on  his  face,  and  almost  with  tears 
of  mortification  and  anger  in  his  voice.  "  Well,  you  call 
that  an  old  horse  ?  " 

"  I  pray,  'r  Grace,  he  is  very  old,  some  tvv^enty  years 
old  —  some  horses  —  " 

"  Silence !  You  are  a  liar  and  a  good-for-nothing,  be- 
cause an  honest  peasant  would  not  lie,  —  he  has  no  cause 
to  lie  ! "  said  Nekhlyiidov,  choking  with  tears  of  anger, 
which  rose  in  his  throat.  He  grew  silent  in  order  not  to 
burst  out  into  tears,  and  thus  disgrace  himself  before  the 
peasant.  Yukhvanka,  too,  was  silent,  and,  with  the  ex- 
pression of  a  man  who  is  ready  to  burst  into  tears,  snuffled 
and  slightly  jerked  his  head. 

"  Well,  with  what  animal  will  you  plough  your  field 
when  you  have  sold  this  horse  ? "  continued  Nekhlyiidov, 
having  calmed  down  sufficiently  to  speak  in  his  customary 
voice.  "  You  are  purposely  sent  to  do  work  on  foot,  so  as 
to  give  your  horses  a  chance  to  improve  for  the  ploughing, 
and  you  want  to  sell  your  last  horse.  But,  the  main  thing 
is,  why  do  you  he  ?  " 

The  moment  the  master  grew  calm,  Yukhvanka  quieted 
down,  too.  He  stood  straight,  and,  still  jerking  his  lips, 
let  his  eyes  flit  from  one  object  to  another, 

"  We  will  drive  out  to  work,  'r  Grace,"  he  replied,  "  not 
worse  than  the  rest." 

"  What  will  you  drive  with? " 

"  Do  not  worry,  we  will  do  the  work  of  'r  Grace,"  he 
answered,  shouting  to  the  gelding,  and  driving  him  away. 
"  I  should  not  have  thought  of  selling  him  if  I  did  not 
need  the  money." 

"  What  do  you  need  the  money  for  ?  " 

"  There  is  no  bread,  'r  Grace,  and  I  have  to  pay  my 
debts  to  the  peasants,  'r  Grace." 

"  How  so,  no  bread  ?  How  is  it  the  others,  who  have 
families,  have  bread,  and  you,  who  have  none,  have  not 
any  ?     What  has  become  of  your  grain  ?" 


34        A    MORNING    OF    A    LANDED    PROPRIETOR 

"  We  have  eateu  it  up,  and  now  not  a  crumb  is  left.  1 
will  buy  a  horse  in  the  fall,  'r  Grace." 

"  You  shall  not  dare  sell  this  horse  ! " 

"  If  so,  'r  Grace,  what  kind  of  a  life  will  it  be  ?  There 
is  no  bread,  and  I  must  not  sell  anything,"  he  answered 
sideways,  twitching  his  lips,  and  suddenly  casting  a  bold 
glance  upon  the  master's  face,  "  It  means,  we  shall  have 
to  starve." 

"  Look  here,  man  ! "  cried  Nekhlyiidov,  pale  with  anger, 
and  experiencing  a  feeling  of  personal  hatred  for  the 
peasant.  "  I  will  not  keep  such  peasants  as  you.  It  will 
go  hard  with  you." 

"  Such  will  be  your  will,  'r  Grace,"  he  answered,  cover- 
ing his  eyes  with  a  feigned  expression  of  humility,  "if  I 
have  not  served  you  right.  And  yet,  nobody  has  noticed 
any  vices  in  me.  Of  course,  if  'r  Grace  is  displeased  with 
me,  'r  Grace  will  do  as  you  wish ;  only  I  do  not  know 
why  I  should  suffer." 

"  I  will  tell  you  why :  because  your  yard  is  not  fenced 
in,  your  manure  not  ploughed  up,  your  fences  are 
broken,  and  you  sit  at  home  and  smoke  a  pipe,  and  do  not 
work ;  because  you  do  not  give  your  mother,  who  has 
turned  the  wliole  farm  over  to  you,  a  piece  of  bread,  and 
permit  your  wife  to  strike  her,  and  have  treated  her  so 
badly  that  she  has  come  to  me  to  complain  about  you." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  'r  Grace,  I  do  not  know  what  pipes 
you  are  speaking  of,"  Yukhvanka  answered,  confusedly, 
apparently  very  much  insulted  by  the  accusation  of  smok- 
ing a  pipe.     "  It  is  easy  to  say  anything  about  a  man." 

"  There  you  are  lying  again  !     I  saw  myself  —  " 

"  How  would  I  dare  to  lie  to  'r  Grace  ? " 

Nekhlyiidov  was  silent,  and,  biting  his  lips,  paced  the 
yard.  Yukhvanka  stood  in  one  spot  and,  without  raising 
his  eyes,  watched  his  master's  feet. 

"  Listen,  Epifan,"  said  Nekhlyiidov,  in  a  voice  of  child- 
like gentleness,  stopping  in  front  of  the  peasant,  and  en- 


A    MORNING    OF    A    LANDED    PROPRIETOR        35 

deavouring  to  conceal  his  agitation.  "  Bethink  yourself. 
If  you  want  to  be  a  good  peasant,  you  must  change  your 
life :  leave  your  bad  habits,  stop  lying,  give  up  drinking, 
and  honour  your  mother.  I  know  all  about  you.  Attend 
to  your  farm,  and  stop  stealing  timber  in  the  Crown  for- 
est and  frequenting  the  tavern  !  What  good  is  there  in 
it,  think !  If  you  have  need  of  anything,  come  to  me, 
ask  straight  out  for  what  yooi  need,  and  tell  why  you 
need  it,  and  do  not  lie,  but  tell  the  whole  truth,  and  I  will 
not  refuse  you  anything  I  can  do  for  you." 

"  If  you  please,  'r  Grace,  we  can  understand  'r  Grace  ! " 
answered  Yukhvanka,  smiling,  as  if  fully  comprehending 
the  charm  of  the  master's  jest. 

This  smile  and  reply  completely  disappointed  Nekh- 
lyildov,  who  had  hoped  to  touch  the  peasant  and  bring 
him  back  on  the  true  path  by  persuasion.  And  then,  it 
seemed  improper  for  him,  who  was  possessed  of  power,  to 
persuade  his  peasant,  and  it  seemed,  too,  that  everything 
he  said  was  not  exactly  what  he  ought  to  have  said.  He 
lowered  his  head  in  sadness  and  walked  into  the  vestibule. 
The  old  woman  was  sitting  on  the  threshold  and  groaning 
aloud,  in  order,  as  it  seemed,  to  express  her  sympathy 
with  the  master's  words  which  she  had  heard. 

"  Here  is  some  money  for  bread,"  Nekhlyiidov  whis- 
pered into  her  ear,  putting  a  biU  into  her  hand.  "  Only 
buy  for  yourself,  and  do  not  give  it  to  Yukhvanka,  who 
will  spend  it  in  drinks." 

The  old  woman  took  hold  of  the  lintel  with  her  bony 
hand,  in  order  to  rise  and  thank  the  master,  and  her  head 
began  to  shake,  but  Nekhlyudov  was  on  the  other  side  of 
the  street  when  she  rose. 


IX. 

"  Davydka  the  White  asked  for  grain  and  posts,"  it  said 
iu  the  note-book  after  Yukhvanka. 

After  passing  several  huts,  Nekhlyudov,  in  turning  into 
a  lane,  met  his  steward,  Yakov  Alpatych,  who,  upon 
noticing  his  master  at  a  distance,  doffed  his  oilcloth  cap, 
and,  taking  out  his  fulled  handkerchief,  began  to  wipe  his 
fat,  red  face. 

"  Put  it  on,  Yakov  !     Yakov,  put  it  on,  I  tell  you  —  " 

"  Where  have  you  been,  your  Grace  ? "  asked  Yakov, 
protecting  himself  with  his  cap  against  the  sun,  but  not 
donning  it. 

"  I  have  been  at  Yukhvanka  the  Shrewd's.  Tell  me,  if 
you  please,  what  has  made  him  so  bad,"  said  the  master, 
continuing  on  his  way. 

"  Why  so,  your  Grace  ? "  replied  the  manager,  following 
the  master  at  a  respectful  distance.  He  had  put  on  his 
cap  and  was  twirling  his  moustache. 

"  Why  ?  He  is  a  thorough  scamp,  a  lazy  man,  a  thief, 
a  liar ;  he  torments  his  mother,  and,  so  far  as  I  can  see, 
he  is  such  a  confirmed  good-for-nothing  that  he  will  never 
reform." 

"I  do  not  know,  your  Grace,  why  he  has  displeased 
you  so  much  —  " 

"  And  his  wife,"  the  master  interrupted  his  manager, 
"  seems  to  be  a  worthless  wench.  The  old  woman  is  clad 
worse  than  a  mendicant,  and  has  nothing  to  eat,  but  she 
is  all  dressed  up,  and  so  is  he.  I  really  do  not  know 
what  to  do  with  them." 

36 


A  MORNING  OF  A  LANDED  PROPRIETOR    37 

Yakov  was  obviously  embarrassed  when  Nekhlyudov 
spoke  of  Yukhvanka's  wife. 

"  Well,  if  he  has  acted  like  that,  your  Grace,"  he  began, 
"  we  must  lind  means.  It  is  true  he  is  indigent,  like  all 
peasants  who  are  alone,  but  he  is  taking  some  care  of 
himself,  not  like  the  others.  He  is  a  clever  and  intelli- 
gent peasant,  and  passably  honest.  He  always  comes 
when  the  capitation  tax  is  collected.  And  he  has  been 
elder  for  three  years,  during  my  administration,  and  no 
fault  was  found  with  him.  In  the  third  year  it  pleased 
the  guardian  to  depose  him,  and  then  he  attended  properly 
to  his  farm.  It  is  true,  when  he  lived  at  the  post  in  town, 
he  used  to  drink  a  bit,  —  and  measures  must  be  taken. 
When  he  went  on  a  spree,  we  threatened  him,  and  he 
came  back  to  his  senses :  he  was  then  all  right,  and  in  his 
family  there  was  peace  ;  but  if  you  are  not  pleased  to  take 
these  measures,  I  really  do  not  know  what  to  do  with 
him.  Well,  he  has  got  very  low.  He  is  not  fit  to  be  sent 
into  the  army  again  because,  as  you  may  have  noticed,  he 
lacks  two  teeth.  But  he  is  not  the  only  one,  I  take  the 
liberty  of  reporting  to  you,  who  is  not  in  the  least  afraid  —  " 

"  Let  this  alone,  Yakov,"  answered  Nekhlyiidov,  softly 
smiling;  "we  have  talked  it  over  often  enough.  You 
know  what  I  think  of  it,  and  I  shall  not  change  my  mind, 
whatever  you  may  tell  me." 

"  Of  course,  your  Grace,  all  this  is  known  to  you,"  said 
Yakov,  shrugging  his  shoulders  and  gazing  at  the  master's 
back,  as  though  v/hat  he  saw  did  not  promise  anything 
good.  "  But  as  to  your  troubling  yourself  about  the  old 
woman,  it  is  all  in  vain,"  he  conticued.  "It  is  true  she 
has  brought  up  the  orphans,  has  raised  and  married  off 
Yukhvanka,  and  all  that.  But  it  is  a  common  rule  with 
the  peasants  that  when  a  father  or  mother  transfers  the 
farm  to  the  son,  the  son  and  daughter-in-law  become  the 
masters,  and  the  old  woman  has  to  earn  her  bread  as  best 
she  can.     Of  course  they  have  iiot  any  tender  feelings,  but 


38        A    MOKNING    OF   A    LANDED    PKOPKIETOR 

that  is  the  common  rule  among  peasants.  And  I  take  the 
liberty  of  informing  you  that  the  old  woman  has  troubled 
you  in  vain.  She  is  a  clever  old  woman  and  a  good  house- 
keeper ;  but  why  should  she  trouble  the  master  for  every- 
thing ?  I  will  admit  she  may  have  quarrelled  with  her 
daughter-in-law,  and  the  daughter-in-law  may  have  pushed 
her,  —  those  are  women's  affairs.  They  might  have  made 
up  again,  without  her  troubling  you.  You  deign  to  take 
it  too  much  to  heart,"  said  the  manager,  looking  with  a 
certain  gentleness  and  condescension  at  the  master,  who 
was  silently  walking,  with  long  steps,  up  the  street  in 
front  of  him. 

"  Homeward  bound,  sir  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  No,  to  Davydka  the  White,  or  Kozlov  :  is  not  that  his 
name  ? " 

"  He,  too,  is  a  good-for-nothing,  permit  me  to  inform 
you.  The  whole  tribe  of  the  Kozlovs  is  like  that.  No 
matter  what  you  may  do  with  them,  it  has  no  effect.  I 
drove  yesterday  over  the  peasant  field,  and  I  saw  he  had 
not  sowed  any  buckwheat ;  what  are  we  to  do  with  such 
a  lot  ?  If  only  the  old  man  taught  the  son,  but  he  is  just 
such  a  good-for-nothing :  he  bungles  everything,  whether 
he  works  for  himself  or  for  the  manor.  The  guardian  and 
I  have  tried  everything  with  him :  we  have  sent  him  to 
the  commissary's  office,  and  have  punished  him  at  home, 

—  but  you  do  not  like  that  —  " 

-  "  Whom,  the  old  man  ? " 

"  The  old  man,  sir.  The  guardian  has  punished  him 
often,  and  at  the  full  gatherings  of  the  Commune ;  but 
will  you  believe  it,  your  Grace,  it  had  no  effect :  he  just 
shook  himself,  and  went  away,  and  did  the  same.  And  I 
must  say,  Davydka  is  a  peaceful  peasant,  and  not  at  all 
stupid :  he  does  not  smoke,  nor  drink,  that  is,"  explained 
Yakov,  "  he  does  something  worse  than  drink.  All  there 
is  left  to  do  is  to  send  him  to  the  army,  or  to  Siberia,  and 
nothing  else.     The  whole  tribe  of  the  Kozldvs  is  like  that. 


A   MORNING    OF    A    LANDED    PROPRIETOR         39 

Matryiishka,  who  lives  in  that  hovel,  also  belongs  to  their 
family,  and  is  the  same  kind  of  au  accursed  good-for-noth- 
ing. So  you  do  not  need  me,  your  Grace  ? "  added  the 
manager,  noticing  that  the  master  was  not  listening  to  him. 

"  No,  you  may  go,"  Nekhlyiidov  answered,  absent- 
mindedly,  and  directed  his  steps  to  Davydka  the  White. 

Davydka's  hut  stood  crooked  and  alone  at  the  edge  of 
the  village.  Near  it  w^as  no  yard,  no  kiln,  no  barn  ;  only 
a  few  dirty  stalls  clung  to  one  side  of  it :  on  the  other 
were  heaped  in  a  pile  wattles  and  timber  that  were  to  be 
used  for  the  yard.  Tall,  green  steppe-gi'ass  grew  in  the 
place  where  formerly  had  been  the  yard.  There  was  not 
a  living  being  near  the  hut,  except  a  pig  that  lay  in  the 
mud  in  front  of  the  threshold,  and  squealed. 

Nekhlyiidov  knocked  at  the  broken  window ;  but,  as 
nobody  answered  him,  he  walked  up  to  the  vestibule  and 
shouted :  "  Ho  there  ! "  Nobody  replied.  He  walked 
through  the  vestibule,  looked  into  the  empty  stalls,  and 
walked  through  the  open  door  into  the  hut. 

An  old  red  cock  and  two  hens  promenaded  over  the 
floor  and  benches,  jerking  tlieir  crops,  and  clattering  with 
their  claws.  When  they  saw  a  man,  they  fluttered  with 
wide-spread  wings  against  the  walls  with  a  clucking  of 
despair,  and  one  of  them  flew  upon  the  oven. 

The  eighteen-foot  hut  was  all  occupied  by  the  oven 
with  a  broken  pipe,  a  weaver's  loom  which  had  not  been 
removed  in  spite  of  summer,  and  a  begrimed  table  with  a 
warped  and  cracked  board.  Though  it  was  dry  without, 
there  was  a  dirty  puddle  near  the  threshold  which  had 
been  formed  at  a  previous  rain  by  a  leak  in  the  ceiling 
and  roof.  There  were  no  beds.  It  was  hard  to  believe 
that  this  was  an  inhabited  place,  there  was  such  a  de- 
cided aspect  of  neglect  and  disorder,  both  inside  and  out- 
side the  hut ;  and  yet  Davydka  the  White  lived  in  it 
with  his  whole  family.  At  that  particular  moment,  in 
spite  of  the   heat    of   the  June    day,  Davydka   lay,  his 


40        A   MORNING    OF    A    LANDED    PROPRIETOR 

bead  wrapped  in  a  sheepskin  half-coat,  on  the  corner  of 
the  oven,  fast  asleep.  The  frightened  hen,  which  had 
alighted  on  the  oven  and  had  not  yet  calmed  down,  w^as 
walking  over  Dav^dka's  back,  without  waking  him. 

Not  finding  any  one  in  the  hut,  Nekblyiidov  was  on 
the  point  of  leaving,  when  a  protracted,  humid  sigh  be- 
trayed the  peasant. 

"  Oil,  who  is  there  ? "  cried  the  master. 

On  the  oven  was  heard  another  protracted  sigh. 

"  Who  is  there  ?     Come  here  ! " 

Another  sigh,  a  growl,  and  a  loud  yawn  were  the  answer 
to  the  master's  call. 

"  Well,  will  you  come  ? " 

Something  stirred  on  the  oven.  There  appeared  tbe 
flap  of  a  worn-out  sheepskin  ;  a  big  foot  in  a  torn  bast 
shoe  came  down,  then  another,  and  finally  the  whole 
form  of  Dav^dka  the  White  sat  up  on  the  oven,  and 
lazily  and  discontentedly  rubbed  his  eyes  with  his  large 
fist.  He  slowly  bent  his  head,  yawned,  gazed  at  the  hut, 
and,  when  lie  espied  the  master,  began  to  turn  around  a 
little  faster  than  before,  but  still  so  leisurely  that  Nekh- 
lyudov  had  sufficient  time  to  pace  three  times  the  distance 
from  the  puddle  to  the  loom,  before  Davydka  got  off  the 
oven. 

Davydka  the  White  was  actually  white ;  his  hair,  his 
body,  and  face,  —  everything  was  exceedingly  white.  He 
was  tall  and  very  stout,  that  is,  stout  like  a  peasant,  with 
his  whole  body,  and  not  merely  with  his  belly ;  but  it 
was  a  flabby,  unhealthy  obesity.  His  fairly  handsome 
face,  with  its  dark  blue,  calm  eyes  and  broad,  long  beard, 
bore  the  imprint  of  infirmity.  There  was  neither  tan 
nor  ruddiness  in  his  face ;  it  was  of  a  pale,  sallow  com- 
plexion, with  a  light  violet  shade  under  his  eyes,  and 
looked  suffused  with  fat,  and  swollen.  His  hands  were 
swollen  and  sallow,  like  those  of  people  who  suffer  with 
the  dropsy,  and  were  covered  with  fine  white  hair.     He 


A   MORNING   OF   A   LANDED    PROPRIETOR        41 

was  so  sleepy  that  he  could  not  open  his  eyes  wide,  nor 
stand  still,  without  tottering  and  yawning. 

"  Are  you  not  ashamed,"  began  Nekhlyudov,  "  to  sleep 
in  bright  daylight,  when  you  ought  to  build  a  yard,  and 
when  you  have  no  grain  ? " 

As  soon  as  Dav5^dka  came  to  his  senses,  and  began  to 
understand  that  the  master  was  standing  before  him,  he 
folded  his  hands  over  his  abdomen,  lowered  his  head, 
turning  it  a  little  to  one  side,  and  did  not  stir  a  limb. 
He  was  silent ;  but  the  expression  of  his  face  and  the 
attitude  of  his  whole  form  said,  "  I  know,  I  know,  it  is 
not  the  first  time  I  hear  that.  Beat  me  if  you  must,  — 
I  will  bear  it." 

It  looked  as  though  he  wanted  the  master  to  stop 
talking  and  to  start  beating  him  at  once ;  to  strike  him 
hard  on  his  cheeks,  but  to  leave  him  in  peace  as  soon  as 
possible. 

When  Nekhlyudov  noticed  that  Dav^dka  did  not 
understand  him,  he  tried  with  various  questions  to  rouse 
the  peasant  from  his  servile  and  patient  silence. 

"  Why  did  you  ask  me  for  timber  w^hen  you  have  had 
some  lying  here  for  a  month,  and  that,  too,  when  you 
have  most  time  your  own,  eh  ? " 

DavA^dka  kept  stubborn  silence,  and  did  not  stir. 

"  Well,  answer  !  " 

Dav}^dka  muttered  something,  and  bhnked  with  his 
white  eyelashes. 

"  But  you  must  w^ork,  my  dear :  what  will  happen 
without  work  ?  Now,  you  have  no  grain,  and  why  ? 
Because  your  land  is  badly  ploughed,  and  has  not  been 
harrowed,  and  was  sowed  in  too  late,  —  all  on  account  of 
laziness.  You  ask  me  for  grain :  suppose  I  give  it  to 
you,  because  you  must  not  starve !  It  will  not  do  to  act 
in  this  way.  Whose  grain  am  I  giving  you  ?  What  do 
you  think,  whose  ?  Answer  me  :  whose  grain  am  I  giving 
you  ? "     Nekhlyudov  stubbornly  repeated  his  question. 


42        A   MORNING    OF    A    LANDED    PROPRIETOR 

"  The  manorial,"  mumbled  Dav5^dka,  timidly  and  ques- 
tioningly  raising  his  eyes. 

"  And  where  does  the  manorial  grain  come  from  ? 
Think  of  it :  who  has  ploughed  the  field  ?  Who  has  har- 
rowed it  ?  Who  has  sowed  it  in,  and  garnered  it  ?  The 
peasants  ?  Is  it  not  so  ?  So  you  see,  if  I  am  to  give 
the  manorial  grain  to  the  peasants,  I  ought  to  give  more 
to  those  who  have  worked  more  for  it ;  but  you  have 
worked  less,  and  they  complain  of  you  at  the  manor ; 
you  have  worked  less,  and  you  ask  more.  Why  should 
I  give  to  you,  and  not  to  others  ?  If  all  were  lying  on 
their  sides  and  sleeping,  as  you  are  doing,  we  should  all 
have  starved  long  ago.  We  must  work,  my  friend,  but 
this  is  bad,  —  do  you  hear,  Davyd  ? " 

"  I  hear,  sir,"  he  slowly  muttered  through  his  teeth. 


X. 

Just  then  the  head  of  a  peasant  woman  carrying  linen 
on  a  yoke  flashed  by  tlie  window,  and  a  minute  later 
Davydka's  mother  entered  the  hut.  She  was  a  tall 
woman  of  about  fifty  years,  and  was  well  preserved  and 
active.  Her  pockmarked  and  wrinkled  face  was  not 
handsome,  but  her  straight,  firm  nose,  her  compressed  thin 
lips,  and  her  keen  gray  eyes  expressed  intelligence  and 
energy.  The  angularity  of  her  shoulders,  the  flatness  of 
her  bosom,  the  bony  state  of  her  hands,  and  the  well- 
developed  muscles  on  her  black  bare  feet  witnessed  to 
the  fact  that  she  had  long  ceased  to  be  a  woman,  and 
was  only  a  labourer. 

She  entered  boldly  into  the  room,  closed  the  door, 
pulled  down  her  skirt,  and  angrily  looked  at  her  son. 
Nekhlyudov  wanted  to  tell  her  something,  but  she  turned 
away  from  him,  and  began  to  make  the  signs  of  the 
cross  before  a  black  wooden  image  that  peered  out  from 
behind  the  loom.  Having  finished  her  devotion,  she 
straightened  out  her  dirty  checkered  kerchief  in  which 
her  head  was  wrapped,  and  made  a  low  obeisance  before 
the  master. 

"  A  pleasant  Lord's  Day  to  your  Grace,"  she  said. 
"  May  God  preserve  you,  our  father  —  ! " 

When  Davydka  saw  his  mother  he  evidently  became 
embarrassed,  bent  his  back  a  little,  and  lowered  his  neck 
even  more. 

"  Thank  you,  Arina,"  ansv/ered  Nekhlyudov.  "  I  have 
just  been  speaking  with  your  son  about  your  farm." 

43 


44    A  MORNING  OF  A  LANDED  PROPRIETOR 

Arina,  or,  as  the  peasants  had  called  her  when  she  was 
still  a  maiden,  Arishka-Burlak/  supported  her  chin  with 
the  fist  of  her  right  hand,  which,  in  its  turn,  was  resting 
on  the  palm  of  her  left  hand ;  and,  without  hearing  what 
the  master  had  stUl  to  say,  began  to  speak  in  such  a  pen- 
etrating and  loud  voice  that  the  whole  hut  was  filled  with 
sound,  and  in  the  street  it  might  have  appeared  that  sev- 
eral women  were  speaking  at  the  same  time. 

"  What  use,  father,  is  there  of  speaking  to  him  ?  He 
can't  even  speak  like  a  man.  There  he  stands,  block- 
head," she  continued,  contemptuously  pointing  with  her 
head  to  Davydka's  wretched,  massive  figure.  "  My  farm, 
your  Grace  ?  We  are  mendicants ;  there  are  no  people  in 
your  whole  village  more  wretched :  we  have  neither  of 
our  own,  nor  anything  for  the  manorial  dues  —  a  shame! 
He  has  brought  us  to  all  this.  I  bore  him,  raised,  and 
fed  him,  and  with  anticipation  waited  for  him  to  grow  up. 
Here  he  is :  the  grain  is  bursting,  but  there  is  no  more 
work  in  him  than  in  this  rotten  log.  All  he  knows  how 
to  do  is  to  lie  on  the  oven,  or  to  stand  and  scratch  his 
stupid  head,"  she  said,  mocking  him.  "If  you,  father, 
could  threaten  him  somehow !  I  beg  you :  punish  him 
for  the  Lord's  sake ;  send  him  to  the  army,  and  make  an 
end  of  it.  I  have  lost  my  patience  with  him,  I  tell 
you." 

"  How  is  it  you  are  not  ashamed,  Davydka,  to  bring 
your  mother  to  such  a  state  ? "  said  Nekhlyudov,  re- 
proachfully turning  to  the  peasant. 

Davydka  did  not  budge. 

"  It  would  be  different  if  he  were  a  sickly  man,"  Arina 
continued,  with  the  same  vivacity  and  gestures,  "  but  you 
look  at  him,  he  is  fatter  than  a  mill  pig.  He  is  a  good- 
looking  chap,  fit  enough  to  work !  But  no,  he  lies  like  a 
lubber  all  day  on  the  oven.  My  eyes  get  tired  looking 
when  he  undertakes  to  do  something ;  when  he  rises,  or 
1  Burlak  is  a  labourer  towing  boats  up  the  V61ga. 


A    MORNING    OF    A    LANDED    PROPRIETOR        45 

moves,  or  anything,"  she  said,  drawling  her  words  and 
awkwardly  turning  her  angular  shoulders  from  side  to 
side.  "  Now,  for  example,  to-day  the  old  man  has  gone 
for  brushwood  into  the  forest,  and  he  has  told  him  to  dig 
holes ;  but  no,  not  he,  he  has  not  had  the  spade  in  his 
hands  — "  She  grew  silent  for  a  moment.  "He  has 
undone  me,  abandoned  woman!"  she  suddenly  whined, 
waving  her  hands,  and  walking  up  to  her  son  with  a 
threatening  gesture.  "  Your  smooth,  good-for-nothing 
snout,  the  Lord  forgive  me!" 

She  turned  away  contemptuously  and  in  despair  from 
him,  spit  out,  and  again  turned  to  the  master,  continuing 
to  wave  her  hands,  with  the  same  animation  and  with 
tears  in  her  eyes  : 

"  I  am  all  alone,  benefactor.  My  old  man  is  sick  and 
old,  and  there  is  little  good  in  him,  and  I  am  all  sole 
alone.  It  is  enough  to  make  a  stone  burst.  It  would  be 
easier  if  I  just  could  die ;  that  would  be  the  end.  He  has 
worn  me  out,  that  rascal !  Our  father  !  I  have  no  more 
strength !  My  daughter-in-law  died  from  work,  and  I 
shall,  too." 


XI. 

"  What,  died  ? "  Nekhlyudov  asked,  incredulously. 

"  She  died  from  exertion,  benefactor,  as  God  is  holy. 
We  took  her  two  years  ago  from  Baburiq,"  she  continued, 
suddenly  changing  her  angry  expression  to  one  of  tearful- 
ness and  sadness.  "  She  was  a  young,  healthy,  obedient 
woman,  father.  She  had  lived,  as  a  maiden,  in  plenty,  at 
her  father's  home,  and  had  experienced  no  want ;  but 
when  she  came  to  us,  and  had  to  do  the  work,  —  in  the 
manor  and  at  home,  and  everywhere —  She  and  I,  that 
was  all  there  was.  To  me  it  did  not  matter  much.  I  am 
used  to  it,  but  she  was  pregnant,  and  began  to  suffer ;  and 
she  worked  all  the  while  beyond  her  strength,  until  she, 
my  dear  girl,  overworked  herself.  Last  year,  during  St. 
Peter's  Fast,  she,  to  her  misfortune,  bore  a  boy,  and  there 
wa3  no  bread ;  we  barely  managed  to  pick  up  something, 
father ;  the  hard  work  was  on  hand,  and  her  breasts  dried 
up.  It  was  her  tirst-born,  there  was  no  cow,  and  we  are 
peasant  people,  and  it  is  not  for  us  to  bring  up  children 
on  the  bottle;  and,  of  course,  she  was  a  foolish  woman, 
and  worried  her  life  away.  And  when  her  baby  died,  she 
cried  and  cried  from  sorrow,  and  sobbed  and  sobbed,  my 
darling,  and  there  was  want,  and  work,  ever  worse  and 
worse ;  she  wore  herself  out  all  summer,  and  died,  my 
darling,  on  the  day  of  St.  Mary's  Intercession.  It  is  he 
who  has  undone  her,  beast ! "  She  again  turned  to  her  son 
with  the  anger  of  despair.  "  I  wanted  to  ask  you,  your 
Grace,"  she  continued  after  a  short  silence,  lowering  her 
head,  and  bowing. 

46 


A   MORNING    OF   A    LANDED    PROPRIETOR        47 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  Nekhlyudov  asked  abseut-mindedly,  still 
agitated  by  her  recital. 

"  He  is  a  young  man  yet.  You  can't  expect  much  work 
from  me ;  to-day  I  am  alive,  to-morrow  dead.  How  can 
he  be  without  a  wife  ?  He  will  not  be  a  peasant,  if  he  is 
not  married.     Have  pity  on  us,  father." 

"  That  is,  you  want  to  marry  him  off  ?     Well  ? " 

"  Do  us  this  favour  before  God !  You  are  our  father 
and  mother." 

Slie  gave  her  son  a  sign,  and  both  dropped  on  the 
gi-ound  before  their  master's  feet. 

"  Why  do  you  make  these  earth  obeisances  ? "  said 
Nekhlyudov,  angrily  raising  her  by  her  shoulder.  "  Can't 
you  tell  it  without  doing  so  ?  You  know  that  I  do  not 
like  it.  Marry  off  your  son,  if  you  wish.  I  should  be 
glad  to  hear  that  you  have  a  bride  in  view." 

The  old  woman  rose,  and  began  to  wipe  off  her  dry 
eyes  with  her  sleeve.  Dav5^dka  followed  her  example, 
and,  having  wiped  his  eyes  with  his  dry  fist,  continued  to 
stand  in  the  same  patient  and  subservient  attitude  as 
before,  and  to  listen  to  what  Arina  was  saying. 

"  There  is  a  bride,  why  not  ?  Mikh^y's  Vasyutka  is  a 
likely  enough  girl,  but  she  will  not  marry  him  without 
your  will." 

"  Does  she  not  consent  ? " 

"  No,  benefactor,  not  if  it  comes  to  consenting." 

"  Well,  then  what  is  to  be  done  ?  I  cannot  compel 
her ;  look  for  another  girl,  if  not  here,  elsewhere ;  I  will 
buy  her  out,  as  long  as  she  will  give  her  own  consent, 
but  you  can't  marry  by  force.  There  is  no  law  for  that, 
and  it  would  be  a  great  sin." 

"  0  benefactor !  But  is  it  likely  that  any  girl  would 
be  willing  to  marry  him,  seeing  our  manner  of  life  and 
poverty  ?  Even  a  soldier's  wife  would  not  wish  to  take 
upon  herself  such  misery.  What  peasant  will  be  willing 
to  give  his  daughter  to  us  ?     The  most  desperate  man  will 


48         A    MORNING    OF    A    LANDED    PROPEIETOR 

not  give  his.  We  are  mendicants,  and  nothing  else. 
They  will  say  that  we  have  starved  one  woman,  and 
would  do  so  with  their  daughter.  Who  will  give  his  ? " 
she  added,  skeptically  shaking  her  head.  "  Consider  this, 
your  Grace." 

"  But  what  can  I  do  ?  " 

"  Think  of  some  plan  for  us,  father  ! "  Arina  repeated, 
persuasively.     "  What  are  we  to  do  ?  " 

"  What  plan  can  I  find  ?  I  can  do  nothing  for  you  in 
this  matter." 

"  Wlio  will  do  something  for  us,  if  not  you  ? "  said 
Arina,  dropping  her  head,  and  waving  her  hands  with  an 
expression  of  sad  perplexity. 

"  You  have  asked  for  grain,  and  I  will  order  it  to  be 
given  to  you,"  said  the  master,  after  a  short  silence,  during 
which  Arina  drew  deep  breaths  and  Dav^dka  seconded 
her.     "  That  is  all  I  can  do." 

Nekhlyudov  stepped  into  the  vestibule.  The  woman 
and  her  son  followed  the  master,  bowing. 


XII 

"  O  MY  orphanhood ! "  said  Arina,  drawing  a  deep 
breath. 

She  stopped,  and  angrily  hooked  at  her  son.  Davj;^dka 
immediately  wheeled  around  and,  with  difficulty  lifting 
his  fat  leg,  in  an  immense  dirty  bast  shoe,  over  the 
threshold,  was  lost  in  the  opposite  door. 

"  What  am  I  going  to  do  with  him,  father  ? "  continued 
Arina,  turning  to  the  master.  "  You  see  yourself  what  he 
is  !  He  is  not  a  bad  peasant :  he  does  not  drink,  is  peace- 
ful, and  would  not  harm  a  child,  —  it  would  be  a  sin  to 
say  otherwise  ;  there  is  nothing  bad  about  him,  and  God 
only  knows  what  it  is  that  has  befallen  him  that  he  has 
become  his  own  enemy.  He  himself  is  not  satisfied  with 
it.  Really,  father,  it  makes  my  heart  bleed  when  I  see 
how  he  worries  about  it  himself.  Such  as  he  is,  my  womb 
has  borne  him  ;  I  am  sorry,  very  sorry  for  him !  He 
would  do  no  harm  to  me,  or  his  father,  or  the  authorities  ; 
he  is  a  timid  man,  I  might  say,  like  a  child.  How  can  he 
remain  a  widower  ?  Do  something  for  us,  benefactor," 
she  repeated,  evidently  trying  to  correct  the  bad  impres- 
sion which  her  scolding  might  have  produced  on  the 
master.  "  Your  Grace,"  she  continued,  in  a  confidential 
whisper,  "  I  have  reasoned  this  way  and  that  way,  but 
I  can't  make  out  what  has  made  him  so.  It  cannot  be 
otherwise  but  that  evil  people  have  bewitched  him." 

She  was  silent  for  a  moment. 

"  If  the  man  could  be  found,  he  might  be  cured." 

49 


50        A    MORNING    OF    A    LANDED    PROPEIETOR 

•'  What  nonsense  you  are  talking,  Arina  !  How  can 
one  bewitch  ? " 

"  Father,  they  can  bewitch  so  as  to  make  one  a  no-man 
for  all  his  life  !  There  are  many  evil  people  in  the  world  ! 
Out  of  malice  they  take  out  a  handful  of  earth  in  one's 
track  —  or  something  else  —  and  one  is  a  no-man  for 
ever.  It  is  easy  to  sin  !  I  have  been  thinking  of  going 
to  see  old  man  Dundiik,  who  lives  at  Vorob^vka :  he 
knows  all  kinds  of  incantations,  and  he  knows  herbs,  and 
he  takes  away  the  evil  eye,  and  draws  the  dropsy  out  of 
the  spine.  Maybe  he  will  help  ! "  said  the  woman. 
"  Maybe  he  will  cure  him  !  " 

"  Now  that  is  wretchedness  and  ignorance ! "  thought 
the  young  master,  sorrowfully  bending  his  head,  and 
walking  with  long  strides  down  the  village.  "  What 
shall  I  do  with  him  ?  It  is  impossible  to  leave  him  in 
this  state,  on  my  account,  and  as  an  example  for  others, 
and  for  his  own  sake,"  he  said  to  himself,  counting  out 
the  causes  on  his  fingers.  "  I  cannot  see  him  in  this  con- 
dition, but  how  am  I  to  take  him  out  of  it  ?  He  destroys 
all  my  best  plans  for  the  estate.  If  such  peasants  are 
left  in  it,  my  dreams  will  never  be  fulfilled,"  he  thought, 
experiencing  mortification  and  anger  against  the  peasant 
for  destroying  his  plans.  "  Shall  I  send  him  as  a  settler 
to  Siberia,  as  Yakov  says,  when  he  does  not  want  to  be 
well  off,  or  into  the  army  ?  That's  it.  I  shall  at  least 
be  rid  of  him,  and  shall  thus  save  a  good  peasant," 
he  reflected. 

He  thought  of  it  with  delight ;  at  the  same  time  a  cer- 
tain indistinct  consciousness  told  him  that  he  was  think- 
ing with  one  side  of  his  reason  only,  and  something  was 
wrong.  He  stopped.  "  Wait,  what  am  I  thinking  about  ? " 
he  said  to  himself ;  "  yes,  into  the  army,  to  Siberia.  For 
what  ?  He  is  a  good  man,  better  than  many  others,  and 
how  do  I  know —  Give  him  his  liberty?"  he  reflected, 
considering  the  question  not  with  one  side  of  his  reason 


A   MOKNING    OF    A    LANDED    PROPRIETOR        51 

only,  as  before.  "  It  is  uujust,  and  impossible."  Sud- 
denly a  thought  came  to  him  that  gave  him  great  pleasure  ; 
he  smiled,  with  the  expression  of  a  man  who  has  solved  a 
difficult  problem.  "  I  will  take  him  to  the  manor,"  he 
said  to  himself.  "  I  will  watch  over  him  myself,  and  with 
gentleness  and  persuasion,  and  proper  selection  of  occupa- 
tions, accustom  him  to  work,  and  reform  him." 


xni 

"I  WILL  do  SO,"  Nekhlyiidov  said  to  himself  with 
cheerful  self-satisfaction,  and,  recalling  that  he  had  to 
visit  yet  the  rich  peasant,  Diitldv,  he  directed  his  steps  to 
a  tall  and  spacious  building,  with  two  chimneys,  which 
stood  in  the  middle  of  the  village.  As  he  was  getting 
near  it,  he  met,  near  the  neighbouring  hut,  a  tall,  slatternly 
woman,  of  some  forty  years  of  age,  who  came  out  to 
see  him. 

"  A  pleasant  holiday,  sir,"  the  woman  said,  without  the 
least  timidity,  stopping  near  him,  smiling  pleasantly,  and 
bowing. 

"  Good  morning,  nurse,"  he  answered.  "  How  are  you 
getting  on  ?     I  am  going  to  see  your  neighbour." 

"  Yes,  your  Grace,  that  is  good.  But  why  do  you  not 
deign  to  call  on  us?  My  old  man  would  be  ever  so 
happy  to  see  you." 

"  Well,  I  will  come  in,  to  talk  with  you,  nurse.  Is  this 
your  hut  ? " 

"  Yes,  sir." 

And  the  nurse  ran  ahead.  Nekhlyiidov  walked  after 
her  into  the  vestibule,  sat  down  on  a  pail,  took  out  a 
cigarette,  and  lighted  it, 

"  It  is  hot  there  ;  let  us  stay  here  and  talk,"  he  answered 
to  the  nurse's  invitation  to  walk  into  the  hut. 

The  nurse  was  still  in  her  prime,  and  a  fine-looking 
woman.  In  her  features,  and  especially  in  her  large  black 
eyes,  there  was  a  great  resemblance  to  the  master's  face. 
She  put  her  hands  under  her  apron,  and,  boldly  looking 

52 


A   MOKNING    OF    A    LANDED    PROPRIETOR        53 

at  the  master  aud  continually  shaking  her  head,  began 
to  speak  with  him  : 

"  What  is  the  reason,  sir,  you  are  honouring  Dutlov 
with  a  visit  ? " 

"  I  want  him  to  rent  from  me  thirty  desyatinas  ^  of  land, 
and  start  a  farm  of  his  own,  and  also  to  buy  some  tim- 
ber with  me.  He  has  money,  —  why  should  it  he  idle  ? 
What  do  you  think  about  that,  nurse  ? " 

"  Well !  Of  course,  sir,  the  Dutlovs  are  powerful  people. 
I  suppose  he  is  the  first  peasant  in  the  whole  estate," 
answered  the  nurse,  nodding  her  liead.  "  Last  year  he 
added  a  new  structure  out  of  his  own  timber,  —  he  did 
not  trouble  the  master.  Of  horses,  there  will  be  some  six 
sets  of  three,  outside  of  colts  and  yearlings ;  and  of  stock, 
there  are  so  many  cows  and  sheep  that  when  they  drive 
them  home  from  the  field,  and  the  women  go  out  to 
drive  them  into  the  yard,  there  is  a  terrible  crush  at  the 
gate ;  and  of  bees,  there  must  be  two  hundred  hives,  and 
maybe  more.  He  is  a  powerful  peasant,  he  must  have 
money,  too." 

"  Do  you  think  he  has  much  money  ? "  the  master 
asked. 

"  People  say,  of  course,  out  of  malice,  that  the  man  has 
a  great  deal ;  naturally,  he  would  not  tell,  nor  would  he 
let  his  sons  know,  but  he  must  have.  Why  should  he  not 
put  his  money  out  for  a  forest  ?  Unless  he  should  be 
afraid  to  let  out  the  rumour  about  having  money.  Some 
five  years  ago  he  invested  a  little  money  in  bottom  meadows 
with  Shkalik  the  porter;  but  I  think  Shkalik  cheated 
him,  so  that  the  old  man  was  out  of  three  hundred  roubles  ; 
since  then  he  has  given  it  up.  And  why  should  he  not 
be  well  fixed,  your  Grace,"  continued  the  nurse,  "he  is 
hving  on  three  parcels  of  land,  the  family  is  large,  all 
workers,  and  the  old  man  himself  —  there  is  nothing  to 
be  said  against  him  —  is  a  fine  manager.  He  has  luck  in 
1 A  desyatfua  is  equal  to  2,400  square  fathoms. 


54         A    MORNING    OF    A    LANDED    PROPRIETOR 

everything,  so  that  the  people  are  all  wondering ;  he  has 
luck  with  the  grain,  with  the  horses,  the  cattle,  the  bees, 
and  his  children.  He  has  married  them  all  off.  He 
found  wives  for  them  among  his  own,  and  now  he  has 
married  llyushka  to  a  free  girl,  —  he  has  himself  paid  for 
her  emancipation.  And  she  has  turned  out  to  be  a  fine 
woman." 

"  Do  they  live  peaceably  ? "  asked  the  master. 

"  As  long  as  there  is  a  real  head  in  the  house,  there 
will  be  peace.  Though  with  the  Dutldvs  it  is  as  else- 
where with  women :  the  daughters-in-law  quarrel  behind 
the  oven,  yet  the  sous  live  peacefully  together  under  the 
old  man." 

The  nurse  grew  silent  for  a  moment. 

"  Now  the  old  man  wants  to  make  his  eldest  son,  Karp, 
the  master  of  the  house.  He  says  he  is  getting  too  old 
and  that  his  business  is  with  the  bees.  Well,  Karp  is  a 
good  man,  an  accurate  man,  but  he  will  not  be  such  a 
manager  as  the  old  man,  by  a  good  deal.  He  has  not  his 
intellect." 

"Maybe  Karp  will  be  willing  to  take  up  land  and 
forests,  what  do  you  think  ?  "  said  the  master,  wishing  to 
find  out  from  his  nurse  what  she  kuew  about  her  neigh- 
bours. 

"  I  doubt  it,  sir,"  continued  the  nurse ;  "  the  old  man 
has  not  disclosed  his  money  to  his  son.  As  long  as  the 
old  man  is  alive,  and  the  money  is  in  his  house,  his  mind 
will  direct  affairs ;  besides,  they  are  more  interested  in 
teaming." 

"  And  the  old  man  will  not  consent  ?  " 

"  He  will  be  afraid." 

"  What  will  he  be  afraid  of  ?  " 

"  How  can  a  manorial  peasant  declare  his  money,  sir  ? 
There  might  be  an  unlucky  hour,  and  all  his  money  would 
be  lost !  There,  he  went  into  partnership  with  the  porter, 
and  he  made  a  mistake.     How  could  he  sue  him  ?     And 


A   MOKNING    OF    A    LANDED    PROPRIETOR        55 

thus  the  money  was  all  lost ;  and  with  the  proprietor  it 
would  be  lost  without  appeal." 

"  Yes,  on  this  account  —  "  said  Nekhlyudov,  blushing. 
"  Good-bye,  nurse." 

"  Good-bye,  your  Grace.     I  thank  you  humbly." 


XIV. 

"Had  I  not  better  go  home?"  thought  Nekhlyudov, 
walkiug  up  to  Dutlov's  gate,  and  feeling  an  indefinable 
melancholy  and  moral  fatigue. 

Just  then  the  new  plank  gate  opened  before  him  with 
a  creak,  and  a  fine-looking,  ruddy,  light-complexioned  lad, 
of  about  eighteen  years  of  age,  in  driver's  attire,  appeared 
in  the  gateway,  leading  behind  him  a  set  of  three  stout- 
legged,  sweaty,  shaggy  horses ;  boldly  shaking  his  flaxen 
hair,  he  bowed  to  the  master. 

"  Is  your  father  at  home,  Ilya  ? "  asked  Nekhlyudov. 

"  He  is  with  the  bees,  back  of  the  yard,"  answered  the 
lad,  leading  one  horse  after  another  through  the  half-open 
gate. 

"  No,  I  will  stick  to  my  determination  ;  I  will  make 
the  proposition  to  him,  and  will  do  my  part,"  thought 
Nekhlyudov,  and,  letting  the  horses  pass  by,  he  went  into 
Dutlov's  spacious  yard.  He  could  see  that  the  manure 
had  lately  been  removed :  the  earth  was  still  black  and 
sweaty,  and  in  places,  particularly  near  the  gate,  lay 
scattered  red-fibred  shreds.  In  the  yard,  and  under  the 
high  sheds,  stood  in  good  order  many  carts,  ploughs, 
sleighs,  blocks,  tubs,  and  all  kinds  of  peasant  possessions. 
Pigeons  flitted  to  and  fro  and  cooed  in  the  shade  under 
the  broad,  solid  rafters.  There  was  an  odour  of  manure 
and  tar. 

In  one  corner  Karp  and  Ignat  were  fixing  a  new  tran- 
som-bed on  a  large,  three-horse,  steel-rimmed  cart.  Dut- 
lov's three  sons  resembled  each  other  very  much.     The 


A    MORNING    OF    A    LANDED    PROPEIETOR        57 

youngest,  Ilya,  whom  Nekhlyudov  had  met  iu  the  gate, 
had  no  beard,  and  was  smaller,  ruddier,  and  more  fop- 
pishly clad  than  the  other  two.  The  second,  Ignat,  was 
taller,  more  tanned,  had  a  pointed  beard,  and,  although 
he  too  wore  boots,  a  driver's  shirt,  and  a  lambskin  cap,  he 
did  not  have  the  careless,  holiday  aspect  of  his  younger 
brother.  The  eldest,  Karp,  w^as  taller  still,  wore  bast 
shoes,  a  gray  caftan,  and  a  shirt  without  gussets ;  he  had 
a  long  red  beard,  and  looked  not  only  solemn,  but  even 
gloomy. 

"  Do  you  command  me  to  send  for  father,  your  Grace  ? " 
he  said,  walking  up  to  the  master  and  bowing  slightly 
and  awkwardly. 

"No,  I  will  go  myself  to  the  apiary ;  I  wish  to  look  at 
his  arrangement  of  it ;  but  I  want  to  talk  with  you,"  said 
Nekhlyudov,  walking  over  to  the  other  end  of  the  yard, 
so  that  Ignat  might  not  hear  what  he  was  going  to  say  to 
Karp. 

The  self-confidence  and  a  certain  pride,  which  were 
noticeable  in  the  whole  manner  of  these  two  peasants, 
and  that  which  his  nurse  had  told  him,  so  embarrassed 
the  young  master  that  he  found  it  hard  to  make  up  his 
mind  to  tell  him  of  the  matter  in  hand.  He  felt  as 
though  he  were  guilty  of  something ;  and  it  was  easier  for 
him  to  speak  to  one  of  the  brothers,  without  being  heard 
by  the  other.  Karp  looked  somewhat  surprised  at  being 
asked  by  the  master  to  step  aside,  but  he  followed  him. 

"  It  is  this,"  began  Nekhlyudov,  hesitating,  "  I  wanted 
to  ask  you  how  many  horses  you  had." 

"  There  will  be  some  five  sets  of  three ;  there  are  also 
some  colts,"  Karp  answered,  freely,  scratching  his  back. 

"Do  your  brothers  drive  the  stage  ?  " 

"  We  drive  the  stage  with  three  troykas.  Ilyiishka 
has  been  doing  some  hauling ;  he  has  just  returned." 

"  Do  you  find  that  profitable  ?  How  much  do  you  earn 
in  this  manner  ? " 


58        A   MORNING    OF    A    LANDED    PROPRIETOR 

"  What  profit  can  there  be,  your  Grace  ?  We  just  feed 
ourselves  and  the  horses,  and  God  be  thanked  for  that." 

"  Then  why  do  you  not  busy  yourselves  with  some- 
thing else  ?  You  might  buy  some  forest  or  rent  some 
laud." 

"  Of  course,  your  Grace,  we  might  rent  some  land,  if  it 
came  handy." 

"  This  is  what  I  want  to  propose  to  you.  What  is  the 
use  of  teaming,  just  to  earn  your  feed,  when  you  can  rent 
some  thirty  desyatinas  of  me  ?  I  will  let  you  have  the 
whole  parcel  which  lies  behind  Sapov's,  and  you  can  start 
a  large  farm." 

Nekhlyiidov  was  now  carried  away  by  his  plan  of  a 
peasant  farm,  which  he  had  thought  over  and  recited 
to  himself  more  than  once,  and  he  began  to  expound  to 
Karp,  without  stammering,  his  plan  of  a  peasant  farm. 
Karp  listened  attentively  to  the  words  of  the  master. 

"  We  are  very  well  satished  with  your  favour,"  he  said, 
when  Nekhlyudov  stopped  and  looked  at  him,  expecting 
an  answer.  "  Of  course,  there  is  nothing  bad  in  this.  It 
is  better  for  a  peasant  to  attend  to  the  soil  than  to  flourish 
his  whip.  Peasants  of  our  kind  get  easily  spoilt,  when 
they  travel  among  strange  men,  and  meet  all  kinds  of 
people.  There  is  nothing  better  •  for  a  peasant  than  to 
busy  himself  with  the  land." 

"  What  do  you  thmk  of  it,  then  ? " 

"  As  long  as  father  is  alive,  your  Grace,  there  is  no  use 
in  my  thinking.     His  will  decides." 

"  Take  me  to  the  apiary  ;  I  will  talk  to  him." 

"This  way,  if  you  please,"  said  Karp,  slowly  turning 
toward  the  barn  in  the  back  of  the  yard.  He  opened  a 
low  gate  which  led  to  the  beehives,  and,  letting  the  mas- 
ter walk  through  it,  and  closing  it,  he  walked  up  to  Ignat, 
and  resumed  his  interrupted  work. 


XV. 

Nekhlyudov  bent  his  head,  and  passed  through  the  low 
gate  underneath  the  shady  shed  to  the  apiary,  which  was 
back  of  the  yard.  The  small  space,  surrounded  by  straw 
and  a  wicker  fence  which  admitted  the  sunlight,  where 
stood  symmetrically  arranged  the  beehives,  covered  with 
small  boards,  and  surrounded  by  golden  bees  circling  nois- 
ily about  them,  was  all  bathed  in  the  hot,  brilliant  rays 
of  the  June  sun. 

A  well-trodden  path  led  from  the  gate  through  the 
middle  of  the  apiary  to  a  wooden-roofed  cross  with  a 
brass-foil  image  upon  it,  which  shone  glaringly  in  the  sun. 
A  few  stately  linden-trees,  which  towered  with  their  curly 
tops  above  the  straw  thatch  of  the  neighbouring  yard, 
rustled  their  fresh  dark  green  foliage  almost  inaudibly,  on 
account  of  the  buzzing  of  the  bees.  All  the  shadows 
from  the  roofed  fence,  from  the  lindens,  and  from  the  bee- 
hives that  were  covered  with  boards,  fell  black  and  short 
upon  the  small,  wiry  grass  that  sprouted  between '  the 
hives. 

The  small,  bent  form  of  an  old  man,  with  his  uncovered 
gray,  and  partly  bald,  head  shining  in  the  sun,  was  seen 
near  the  door  of  a  newly  thatched,  moss-calked  plank 
building,  which  was  situated  between  the  Undens.  Upon 
hearing  the  creaking  of  the  gate,  the  old  man  turned 
around  and,  wiping  off  his  perspiring,  sunburnt  face  with 
the  skirt  of  his  shirt,  and  smiling  gently  and  joyfully, 
came  to  meet  the  master. 

The  apiary  was  so  cosy,  so  pleasant,  so  quiet,  and  so 

59 


60        A   MORNING    OF    A    LANDED    PROPRIETOR 

sunlit ;  the  face  of  the  gray-haired  old  mau,  with  the 
abundant  ray-hke  wrinkles  about  his  eyes,  in  his  wide 
shoes  over  his  bare  feet,  who,  waddling  along  and  smiling 
good-naturedly  and  contentedly,  welcomed  the  master  in 
his  exclusive  possessions,  was  so  simple-hearted  and  kind, 
that  Nekhlyiidov  immediately  forgot  the  heavy  impres- 
sions of  the  morning,  and  his  favourite  dream  rose  up 
before  him.  He  saw  all  his  peasants  just  as  rich  and 
good-natured  as  old  Dutlov,  and  all  smiled  kindly  and  joy- 
ously at  him,  because  they  owed  to  him  alone  all  their 
wealth  and  happiness. 

"  "Will  you  not  have  a  net,  your  Grace  ?  The  bees  are 
angry  now,  and  they  sting,"  said  the  old  man,  taking  down 
from  the  fence  a  dirty  hneu  bag  fragrant  with  honey, 
which  was  sewed  to  a  bark  hoop,  and  offering  it  to  the 
master.  "  The  bees  know  me,  and  do  not  sting  me,"  he 
added,  with  a  gentle  smile,  which  hardly  ever  left  his 
handsome,  sunburnt  face. 

"Then  I  shall  not  need  it,  either.  Well,  are  they 
swarming  already?"  asked  Nekhlyudov,  also  smihng, 
though  he  knew  not  why. 

"  They  are  swarming,  Father  Dmitri  Nikolaevich,"  an- 
swered the  old  man,  wishing  to  express  his  especial  kind- 
ness by  calling  his  master  by  his  name  and  patronymic, 
"but  they  have  just  begun  to  do  it  properly.  It  has 
been  a  cold  spring,  you  know." 

"  I  have  read  in  a  book,"  began  Nekhlyudov,  warding 
off  a  bee  that  had  lost  itself  in  his  hair,  and  was  buzzing 
over  his  very  ear,  "  that  when  the  combs  are  placed 
straight  on  little  bars,  the  bees  begin  to  swarm  earlier. 
For  this  purpose  they  make  hives  out  of  boards  —  with 
cross-bea —  " 

"  Please  do  not  wave  your  hand,  it  will  make  it  only 
worse,"  said  the  old  man.  "  Had  I  not  Ijetter  give  you 
the  net  ? " 

Nekhlyudov  was  experiencing  pain,  but  a  certain  child- 


A    MORNING    OF    A    LANDED    PROPRIETOE        61 

ish  conceit  prevented  him  from  acknowledging  it ;  he 
again  refused  the  net,  and  continued  to  tell  the  old  man 
about  the  construction  of  beehives,  of  which  he  had  read 
in  the  "  Maison  Tiustique,"  and  in  which  the  bees,  accord- 
ing to  his  opinion,  would  swarm  twice  as  much ;  but  a 
bee  stung  his  neck,  and  he  stopped  confused  in  the  mid- 
dle of  his  argument. 

"  That  is  so,  Father  Dmitri  Nikolaevich,"  said  the  old 
man,  glancing  at  the  master  with  fatherly  condescension, 
"  they  write  so  in  books.  But  they  may  write  so  mali- 
ciously. '  Let  him  do,'  they  probably  say,  '  as  we  write, 
and  we  will  have  the  laugh  on  him.'  I  believe  that  is 
possible  !  For  how  are  you  going  to  teach  the  bees  where 
to  build  their  combs  ?  They  fix  them  in  the  hollow 
blocks  as  they  please,  sometimes  crossways,  and  at  others 
straight.  Look  here,  if  you  please,"  he  added,  uncorkiug 
one  of  the  nearest  blocks,  and  looking  through  the  open- 
ing, which  was  covered  with  buzzing  and  creeping  bees 
along  the  crooked  combs.  "  Now  here,  these  young  ones, 
they  have  their  mind  on  a  queen  bee,  but  they  build  the 
comb  straightways  and  aslant,  just  as  it  fits  best  into 
the  block,"  said  the  old  man,  obviously  carried  away  by 
his  favourite  subject,  and  not  noticing  the  master's  condi- 
tion. "  They  are  coming  heavily  laden  to-day,  it  is  a 
warm  day,  and  everything  can  be  seen,"  he  added,  corking 
up  the  hive,  and  crushing  a  creeping  bee  with  a  rag,  and 
then  brushing  off  with  his  coarse  hand  a  few  bees  from 
his  wrinkled  brow.  The  bees  did  not  sting  him.  But 
Nekhlyiidov  could  no  longer  repress  his  desire  to  run  out 
of  the  apiary ;  the  bees  had  stung  him  in  three  places, 
and  they  were  buzzing  on  all  sides  about  his  head  and 
neck. 

"  Have  you  many  hives  ? "  he  asked,  retreating  to  the 
gate. 

"As  many  as  God  has  given,"  answered  Dutlov,  smil- 
ing.    "  One   must  not   count  them,  father !  the  bees  do 


62        A    MORNING    OF    A   LANDED    PROPRIETOR 

not  like  that.  Now,  your  Grace,  I  wanted  to  ask  you," 
he  continued,  pointing^  to  tliin  hives  that  stood  near  the 
fence,  "  in  regard  to  Osip,  the  nurse's  husband.  Could 
you  not  tell  him  to  stop  it  ?  It  is  mean  to  act  thus  to  a 
neighbour  of  your  own  village." 

"  What  is  mean  ?  —  But  they  do  sting  me  !  "  answered 
the  master,  taking  hold  of  the  latch  of  the  gate. 

"  Every  year  he  lets  out  his  bees  against  my  young 
ones.  They  ought  to  have  a  chance  to  improve,  but 
somebody  else's  bees  steal  their  wax,  and  do  other  dam- 
age," said  the  old  man,  without  noticing  the  master's 
grimaces. 

"  All  right,  later,  directly,"  said  Nekhlyudov,  and,  un- 
able to  stand  the  pain  any  longer,  he  rushed  out  of  the 
gate,  defending  himself  with  both  hands. 

"  Ptub  it  in  with  dirt ;  it  will  pass,"  said  the  old  man, 
following  the  master  into  the  yard.  The  master  rubbed 
with  dirt  the  place  where  he  had  been  stung,  blushingly 
looked  at  Karp  and  Ignat,  who  did  not  see  him,  and 
frowned  angrily. 


XVL 

"  I  WANTED  to  ask  your  Grace  about  my  children,"  said 
the  old  man,  accidentally  or  purposely  paying  no  atten- 
tion to  the  master's  angry  look. 

"  What  ? " 

"  Thank  the  Lord,  we  are  well  off  for  horses,  and  we 
have  a  hired  man,  so  there  will  be  no  trouble  al)Out  the 
manorial  dues." 

"  What  of  it  ? " 

"  If  you  would  be  kind  enough  to  let  my  sons  substitute 
money  payment  for  their  manorial  labour,  Ilyushka  and 
Ignat  would  take  out  three  troykas  to  do  some  teaming 
all  summer.     They  may  be  able  to  earn  something." 

"  Where  will  they  go  ? " 

"  Wherever  it  may  be,"  replied  Ilyushka,  who  had  in  the 
meantime  tied  the  horses  under  the  shed,  and  had  come 
up  to  his  father.  "  The  Kadma  boys  took  eight  troykas 
out  to  Eomen,  aud  they  made  a  good  living,  and  brought 
back  home  thirty  roubles  for  each  trdyka ;  and  they  say 
fodder  is  cheap  in  Odessa." 

"It  is  precisely  this  that  I  wanted  to  talk  to  you 
about,"  said  the  master,  turning  to  the  old  man,  and  try- 
ing to  introduce  the  discussion  about  the  farm  as  deftly 
as  possible.  "  Tell  me,  if  you  please,  is  it  more  profitable 
to  do  hauling  than  attend  to  a  farm  ? " 

"  No  end  more  profitable,  your  Grace ! "  again  inter- 
rupted Ilya,  boldly  shaking  his  hair.  "  There  is  no  fodder 
at  home  to  feed  the  horses  with." 

63 


64        A    MORNING    OF   A   LANDED    PROPRIETOR 

"Well,  and  how  much  do  you  expect  to  earn  in  a 
suramer  ? " 

"  In  the  spring,  when  fodder  was  dreadfully  expensive, 
we  travelled  to  Kiev  with  goods ;  in  Kursk  we  again 
took  a  load  of  grits  for  Moscow,  and  we  made  our  hving, 
the  horses  had  enough  to  eat,  and  I  brought  fifteen  roubles 
home." 

"  It  is  not  a  disgrace  to  have  an  honest  trade,"  said  the 
master,  again  turning  to  the  old  man,  "  but  it  seems  to 
me  one  might  find  another  occupation ;  besides,  it  is  a 
kind  of  work  where  a  young  fellow  travels  about,  sees  all 
kinds  of  people,  and  gets  easily  spoilt,"  he  said,  repeating 
Karp's  words. 

"  What  are  we  peasants  to  take  up,  if  not  hauling  ? " 
answered  the  old  man,  with  his  gentle  smile.  "If  you 
have  a  good  job  at  teaming,  you  yourself  have  enough 
to  eat,  and  so  have  the  horses.  And  as  to  spoiling, 
thank  the  Lord,  they  are  not  hauling  the  first  year ;  and  I 
myself  have  done  teaming,  and  have  never  seen  anything 
bad,  nothing  but  good." 

"  There  are  many  things  you  might  take  up  at  home : 
land  and  meadows  —  " 

"  How  can  we,  your  Grace  ? "  Ilyushka  interrupted  him 
with  animation.  "  We  were  born  for  this ;  we  know  all 
about  it ;  the  business  is  adapted  to  us,  and  we  like  it 
very  much,  your  Grace,  and  there  is  nothing  like  teaming 
for  us  fellows." 

"  Your  Grace,  will  you  do  us  the  honour  to  walk  into 
the  hut  ?  You  have  not  yet  seen  our  new  house,"  said 
the  old  man,  bowing  low,  and  winking  to  his  son. 
Ilyiishka  ran  at  full  speed  into  the  hut,  and  Nekhlyiidov 
followed  him,  with  the  old  man. 


XVII. 

When  they  entered  the  hut,  the  old  man  bowed  again, 
wiped  off  the  bench  in  the  front  corner  with  the  flap  of  his 
coat,  and,  smiling,  asked : 

"  What  may  we  serve  to  you,  your  Grace  ?  " 

The  hut  was  white  (with  a  chimney),  spacious,  and  had 
both  hanging  and  bench  beds.  The  fresh  aspen-wood 
beams,  between  which  the  moss-calking  had  just  begun  to 
fade,  had  not  yet  turned  black ;  the  new  benches  and  beds 
had  not  yet  become  smooth,  and  the  floor  was  not  yet 
stamped  down. 

A  young,  haggard  peasant  woman,  with  an  oval,  pensive 
face,  Ilya's  wife,  was  sitting  on  the  bench-bed,  and  rock- 
ing with  her  foot  a  cradle  that  hung  down  from  the  ceiling 
by  a  long  pole.  In  the  cradle  a  suckling  babe  lay  stretched 
out,  and  slept,  barely  breathing,  and  closing  its  eyes. 
Another,  a  plump,  i-ed-cheeked  woman,  Karp's  wife,  stood, 
with  her  sunburnt  arms  bared  above  the  elbows,  near 
the  oven,  and  cut  onions  into  a  wooden  bowl.  A  third,  a 
pockmarked,  pregnant  woman,  stood  at  the  oven,  shielding 
herself  with  her  sleeve.  The  hut  was  hot,  not  only  from 
the  sun,  but  from  the  oven  also,  and  was  fragrant  with 
freshly  baked  bread.  From  the  hanging  beds  the  flaxen 
heads  of  two  boys  and  a  girl,  who  had  climbed  tliere  in 
expectation  of  dinner,  looked  down  with  curiosity  at  the 
master. 

Nekhlyudov  was  happy  to  see  this  well-being ;  but,  at 
the  same  time,  he  felt  embarrassed  before  these  women 

65 


66        A   MORNING    OF    A    LANDED    PROPRIETOR 

and  cliildren  who  gazed  at  him.     He  sat  down  on  the 
bench,  blushing. 

"  Give  me  a  piece  of  warm  bread,  I  like  it,"  he  said,  and 
blushed  even  more. 

Karp's  wife  cut  off  a  big  slice  of  bread,  and  handed  it 
to  the  master  on  a  plate.  Nekhlyiidov  was  silent,  not 
knowing  what  to  say  ;  the  women  were  silent,  too  ;  the 
old  man  smiled  gently. 

"  Really,  what  am  I  ashamed  of  ?  I  am  acting  as 
though  I  were  guilty  of  something,"  thought  Nekhlyiidov. 
"  Wiiy  should  I  not  make  the  proposition  about  the  farm 
to  him  ?     How  foolish  ! "     But  still  he  kept  silent. 

"  Well,  Father  Dmitri  Nikolaevich,  what  will  your 
order  be  about  the  boys  ? "   said  the  old  man. 

"  I  should  advise  you  not  to  send  them  away,  but  to 
find  work  for  them  here,"  suddenly  spoke  Nekhlyiidov, 
taking  courage.  "  Do  you  know  what  I  have  thought 
out  for  you  ?  Buy  in  partnership  with  me  a  young  grove 
in  the  Crown  forest,  and  fields  —  " 

"  How,  your  Grace  ?  Where  shall  I  get  the  money  for 
it  ?  "  he  interrupted  the  master. 

"  A  small  grove,  for  about  two  hundred  roubles,"  re- 
marked Nekhlyiidov. 

The  old  man  smiled  angrily. 

"  It  would  not  hurt  to  buy  it  if  I  had  the  money,"  he 
said. 

"  Do  you  mean  to  tell  me  you  have  not  that  amount  ? " 
said  the  master,  reproachfully. 

"  Oh,  your  Grace ! "  answered  the  old  man,  in  a  sorrow- 
ful voice,  looking  at  the  door.  "  I  have  enough  to  do  to 
feed  the  family,  and  it  is  not  for  me  to  buy  groves." 

"  But  you  have  money,  and  why  should  it  lie  idle  ? " 
insisted  Nekhlyiidov. 

The  old  man  became  greatly  agitated  ;  his  eyes  flashed, 
he  began  to  shrug  his  shoulders. 

"  It  may  be  evil  people  have  told  you  something  about 


A   MOKNING    OF    A    LANDED    PROPRIETOR        67 

me,"  he  spoke  in  a  trembling  voice,  "  but,  as  you  believe 
in  God,"  he  said,  becoming  more  and  more  animated,  and 
turning  his  eyes  to  the  image,  "  may  my  eyes  burst,  may  I 
go  through  the  floor,  if  I  have  anything  outside  of  the 
fifteen  roubles  which  Ilyushka  has  brought  me,  and  I 
must  pay  the  capitation  tax,  and,  you  know  yourself, 
I  have  just  built  a  new  hut  —  " 

"  All  right,  all  right ! "  said  the  master,  rising  from  the 
bench.     "  Good-bye,  people ! " 


XVIII. 

"  My  God  !  My  God ! "  thought  Nekhlyudov,  making 
his  way  with  long  strides  to  the  house  through  the  shady 
avenues  of  the  weed-grown  garden,  and  absent-mindedly 
tearing  oif  leaves  and  branches  on  his  way.  "  Is  it  possible 
all  my  dreams  of  the  aims  and  duties  of  my  life  have  been 
absurd  ?  Why  do  I  feel  so  oppressed  and  melancholy,  as 
though  I  were  dissatisfied  with  myself,  whereas  I  had 
imagined  that  the  moment  I  entered  on  the  path,  I  would 
continually  experience  that  fulness  of  a  morally  satisfied 
feeling  which  I  had  experienced  when  these  thoughts 
came  to  me  for  the  first  time  ? " 

He  transferred  himself,  in  imagination,  with  extraordi- 
nary vividness  and  clearness,  a  year  back,  to  that  blissful 
moment. 

He  had  risen  early  in  the  morning  before  everybody  in 
the  house,  painfully  agitated  by  some  secret,  inexpressi- 
ble impulses  of  youth ;  had  aimlessly  walked  into  the 
garden,  thence  into  the  forest ;  and,  amidst  the  strong, 
luscious,  but  calm  Nature  of  a  May  day,  he  had  long 
wandered  alone,  without  thought,  suffering  from  an  excess 
of  some  feeling,  and  unable  to  find  an  expression  for  it. 

His  youthful  imagination,  full  of  the  charm  of  the 
unknown,  represented  to  liim  the  voluptuous  image  of 
a  woman,  and  it  seemed  to  him  that  this  was  the  unex- 
pressed desire.  But  another  higher  feeling  said  to  him, 
"  Not  this,"  and  compelled  him  to  seek  something  else. 
Then  again,  his  vivid  imagination,  rising  higher  and 
higher,  into  the  sphere  of  abstractions,  opened  up  to  him, 

68 


A   MOKNING    OF    A    LANDED    PKOPRIETOR        69 

as  he  thought,  the  laws  of  being,  and  he  dwelt  with  proud 
delight  upon  these  thoughts.  And  again  a  higher  feeling 
said,  "  Not  this,"  and  again  caused  him  to  seek  and  be 
agitated. 

Without  ideas  and  desires,  as  always  happens  after  an 
intensified  activity,  he  lay  down  on  his  hack  under  a  tree, 
and  began  to  gaze  at  the  translucent  morning  clouds, 
which  scudded  above  him  over  the  deep,  endless  sky. 
Suddenly  tears  stood,  without  any  cause,  in  his  eyes,  and, 
God  knows  how,  there  came  to  him  the  clear  thought, 
which  filled  his  soul,  and  which  he  seized  with  delight,  — 
the  thought  that  love  and  goodness  were  truth  and  hap- 
piness, and  the  only  truth  and  possible  happiness  in  the 
world.  A  higher  feeling  did  not  say,  "  Not  this,"  and  he 
arose,  and  began  to  verify  his  thought. 

"  It  is,  it  is,  yes ! "  he  said  to  himself-  in  ecstasy,  meas- 
uring all  his  former  convictions,  all  the  phenomena  of  life, 
with  the  newly  discovered  and,  as  he  thought,  entirely 
new  truth.  "  How  stupid  is  all  which  I  have  known,  and 
which  I  have  believed  in  and  loved,"  he  said  to  himself. 
"  Love,  self-sacrifice,  —  these  constitute  the  only  true  hap- 
piness which  is  independent  of  accident  ! "  he  repeated, 
smiling,  and  waving  his  hands.  He  applied  this  thought 
to  life  from  every  side,  and  he  found  its  confirmation  in 
life,  and  in  the  inner  voice  which  told  him,  "  It  is  this," 
and  he  experienced  a  novel  feeling  of  joyful  agitation  and 
transport.  "  And  thus,  I  must  do  good  in  order  to  be 
happy,"  he  thought,  and  all  his  future  was  vividly  pictured 
to  him,  not  in  the  abstract,  but  in  concrete  form,  in  the 
shape  of  a  landed  proprietor. 

He  saw  before  him  an  immense  field  of  action  for  his 
whole  hfe,  which  he  would  henceforth  devote  to  doing 
good,  and  in  which  he,  consequently,  would  be  happy. 
He  would  not  have  to  look  for  a  sphere  of  action :  it  was 
there  ;  he  had  a  direct  duty,  —  be  liad  peasants  — 

What  refreshing  and  grateful  labour  his  imagination 


70        A   MORNING    OF    A    LANDED    PROPRIETOR 

evoked  :  "  To  act  upon  this  simple,  receptive,  uncorrupted 
class  of  people ;  to  save  them  from  poverty  ;  to  give  them 
a  sufficiency ;  to  transmit  to  them  the  education  which  I 
enjoy  through  good  fortune ;  to  reform  their  vices  which 
are  the  issue  of  ignorance  and  superstition ;  to  develop 
their  morality  ;  to  cause  them  to  love  goodness  —  What  a 
brilliant  and  happy  future !  And  I,  who  will  be  doing  it 
all  for  my  own  happiness,  shall  enjoy  their  gratitude,  and 
shall  see  how  with  every  day  I  come  nearer  and  nearer  to 
the  goal  which  I  have  set  for  myself.  Enchanting  future  ! 
How  could  I  have  failed  to  see  it  before  ? 

"  And  besides,"  he  thought  at  the  same  time,  "  who  pre- 
vents my  being  happy  in  my  love  for  a  woman,  in 
domestic  life  ? " 

And  his  youthful  imagination  painted  a  still  more 
entrancing  future  to  him. 

"  I  and  my  wife,  whom  I  love  as  no  one  in  the  world 
has  ever  loved,  will  always  live  amidst  this  tranquil,  poeti- 
cal country  Nature,  with  our  children,  perhaps  with  an  old 
aunt.  We  have  a  common  love,  the  love  for  our  children, 
and  both  of  us  know  that  our  destiny  is  goodness.  We 
help  each  other  to  walk  toward  this  goal.  I  take  general 
measures,  furnish  general  and  just  assistance,  start  a  farm, 
savings-banks,  factories ;  but  she,  with  her  pretty  little 
head,  in  a  simple  white  dress,  lifted  over  her  dainty  foot, 
walks  through  the  mud  ta  the  peasant  school,  to  the  hos- 
pital, to  some  unfortunate  peasant,  who  really  does  not 
deserve  any  aid,  and  everywhere  she  consoles  and  helps  — 
The  children  and  the  old  men  and  women  worship  her, 
and  look  upon  her  as  upon  an  angel,  a  vision.  Then  she 
returns  home,  and  she  conceals  from  me  that  she  has  gone 
to  see  the  unfortunate  peasant,  and  has  given  him  money ; 
but  I  know  everything,  and  I  embrace  her  tightly,  and 
firmly  and  tenderly  kiss  her  charming  eyes,  her  bashfully 
blushing  cheeks,  and  her  smiling  ruddy  lips  —  " 


XIX. 

"  Where  are  these  dreams  ? "  now  thought  the  youth, 
as  he  approached  his  house  after  his  visits.  "  It  is  now 
more  than  a  year  that  I  have  been  seeking  happiness  upon 
this  road,  and  what  have  I  found  ?  It  is  true,  at  times  I 
feel  that  I  might  be  satisfied  with  myself,  but  it  is  a  kind 
of  dry,  mental  satisfaction.  Yes  and  no,  I  am  simply  dis- 
satisfied with  myself !  I  am  dissatisfied  because  I  have 
found  no  happiness  here,  and  yet  I  wish,  I  passionately 
wish  for  happiness.  I  have  not  experienced  enjoyment, 
and  have  already  cut  off  from  me  everything  which  gives 
it.  Why  ?  For  what  ?  Who  has  been  better  off  for  it  ? 
My  aunt  was  right  when  she  said  that  it  is  easier  to  find 
happiness  than  to  give  it  to  others. 

"  Have  my  peasants  grown  richer  ?  Have  they  been 
morally  educated  and  developed  ?  Not  in  the  least 
They  are  not  better  oft:^  but  I  feel  worse  with  every  day. 
If  I  only  saw  any  success  in  my  undertaking,  if  I  saw 
gratitude  —  but  no,  I  see  the  perverted  routine,  vice,  sus- 
picion, helplessness. 

"  I  am  wasting  in  vain  the  best  years  of  my  life,"  he 
thought,  and  it  occurred  to  him  that  his  nurse  had  told 
him  that  his  neighbours  called  him  a  "  minor " ;  that 
there  was  no  money  left  in  his  office ;  that  the  new 
threshing-machine,  which  he  had  invented,  to  the  com- 
mon dehght  of  the  peasants,  only  whistled  but  did  not 
thresh,  when  it  was  for  the  first  time  set  in  motion  in  the 
threshing-barn,  before  a  large  audience ;  that  from  day  to 

71 


72        A   MORNING   OF    A   LANDED    PROPRIETOR 

day  he  might  expect  the  arrival  of  the  agrarian  court  in 
order  to  take  an  invoice  of  the  estate,  since  he  had  allowed 
payments  on  the  mortgage  to  lapse,  in  his  preoccupation 
with  all  kinds  of  new  farm  undertakings. 

And  suddenly,  just  as  vividly  as  before,  came  to  him 
the  picture  of  his  walk  through  the  forest,  and  the  dream 
of  a  country  life ;  and  just  as  vividly  stood  before  him  his 
student  room  in  Moscow,  in  which  he  used  to  stay  up  late 
at  night,  by  one  candle,  with  liis  classmate  and  adored 
sixteen-year-old  friend.  They  read  and  recited  for  hours 
in  succession  some  tiresome  notes  of  civil  law,  and,  after 
finishing  them,  sent  for  supper,  pooled  on  a  bottle  of 
champagne,  and  talked  of  the  future  that  was  in  store  for 
them.  How  differently  the  future  had  presented  itself  to 
a  young  student!  Then  the  future  was  full  of  enjoy- 
ment, of  varied  activities,  of  splendid  successes,  and  incon- 
testably  led  both  of  them  to  the  highest  good  in  the 
world,  as  it  then  was  understood  by  them,  —  to  fame ! 

"  He  is  walking,  and  rapidly  walking,  on  that  road," 
thought  Nekhlyudov  of  his  friend,  "  and  I  —  " 

At  this  time  he  had  arrived  at  the  entrance  of  the 
house,  where  ten  or  more  peasants  and  domestics  stood, 
waiting  for  the  master  with  all  kinds  of  requests,  and  he 
had  to  turn  from  his  dreams  to  the  reality  before  him. 

Here  was  a  ragged,  dishevelled,  and  blood-stained  peas- 
ant woman  who  complained  in  tears  of  her  father-in-law, 
who,  she  said,  wanted  to  kill  her ;  here  were  two  brothers 
who  had  been  for  two  years  quarrelling  about  the  division 
of  their  farm,  and  who  looked  upon  each  other  with  des- 
perate malice ;  here  was  also  an  unshaven,  gray-haired 
servant,  with  hands  quivering  from  intoxication,  whom 
his  son,  the  gardener,  had  brought  to  the  master,  to  com- 
plain of  his  dissolute  conduct ;  here  was  a  peasant  who 
had  driven  his  wife  out  of  the  house  because  she  had  not 
worked  all  the  spring ;  here  was  also  that  sick  woman, 
his  wife,  who  sat,  sobbing  and  saying  nothing,  on  the 


A  MORNING  OF  A  LANDED  PROPRIETOR    io 

grass  near  the  entrance,  and  displayed  her  inflamed,  swol- 
len leg,  carelessly  wrapped  in  a  dirty  rag  — 

Nekhlyiidov  listened  to  all  requests  and  complaints, 
and  he  gave  his  advice  to  some,  and  settled  the  quarrels 
or  made  promises  to  others.  He  experienced  a  certain 
mixed  feehng  of  weariness,  shame,  helplessness,  and  re- 
morse, and  walked   to  his  room. 


XX. 

In  the  small  room  which  Nekhlyudov  occupied,  stood 
an  old  leather  divan  studded  with  brass  nails,  several 
chairs  of  the  same  description,  an  open  antiquated  card- 
table,  with  incrustations,  indentations,  and  a  brass  rim, 
on  which  lay  papers,  and  an  antiquated,  yellow,  open 
English  grand,  with  worn,  narrow  keys.  Between  the 
windows  hung  a  large  mirror  in  an  old  gilt  carved  frame. 
On  the  floor,  near  the  table,  lay  stacks  of  papers,  books, 
and  accounts.  The  room  bore  altogether  a  disorderly 
aspect,  and  was  devoid  of  character;  and  this  living 
disorder  formed  a  sharp  contrast  to  the  affected,  old- 
fashioned,  aristocratic  arrangement  of  the  other  rooms  of 
the  large  house. 

Upon  entering  tlie  room  Nekhlyildov  angrily  threw 
his  hat  upon  the  table,  and  sat  down  on  a  chair  which 
stood  in  front  of  the  grand,  and  crossed  his  legs  and 
dropped  his  head. 

"  Well,  will  you  have  your  breakfast,  your  Grace  ? " 
said,  upon  entering  the  room,  a  tall,  haggard,  wrinkled 
old  woman,  in  cap,  large  kerchief,  and  chintz  dress. 

Nekhlyildov  turned  around  to  take  a  look  at  her,  and 
kept  silent  for  awhile,  as  though  considering  something. 

"  No,  I  do  not  care  to,  nurse,"  he  said,  and  again 
became  pensive. 

The  nurse  angrily  shook  her  head  at  him,  and  sighed. 

"  Oh,  Dmitri  Nikolaevich,  why  do  you  look  so  sad  ? 
There  are  greater  sorrows,  and  they  pass,  —  really  they 
do  —  " 

74 


A   MORNING    OF    A    LANDED    PROPRIETOR        75 

"  But  I  am  not  sad.  Wliat  makes  you  think  so,  Mother 
Malanya  Finog^novna  ? "  answered  Nekhlyiidov,  trying 
to  smile. 

"  Yes,  you  are.  Don't  I  see  it  ? "  the  nurse  began  to 
speak  with  animation,  "  You  are  day  in,  day  out,  all 
alone.  And  you  take  everything  to  heart,  and  attend 
to  everything  yourself.  You  have  even  quit  eating.  Is 
this  right  ?  If  you  only  wsnt  to  visit  the  city,  or  your 
neighbours,  —  but  this  is  an  unheard-of  thing.  You 
are  young,  so  why  should  you  worry  about  everything  ? 
Forgive  me,  sir,  I  will  sit  down,"  continued  the  nurse, 
seating  herself  near  the  door.  "  You  have  been  so  indul- 
gent with  them,  that  nobody  is  afraid  of  you.  Is  this  the 
way  masters  do  ?  There  is  nothing  good  in  it.  You  are 
ruining  yourself,  and  the  people  are  getting  spoilt.  You 
know,  our  peasants  do  not  understand  what  you  are  doing 
for  them,  really  they  don't.  Why  do  you  not  go  to  see 
your  aunty ;  she  wrote  you  tlie  truth  — "  the  nurse 
admonished  him. 

Nekhlyiidov  kept  growing  more  and  more  despondent. 
His  right  hand,  which  was  resting  on  his  knee,  fell 
flaccidly  upon  the  keys.  They  gave  forth  a  chord,  a 
second,  a  third  —  Nekhlyiidov  moved  up,  drew  his  other 
hand  from  his  pocket,  and  began  to  play.  The  chords 
which  he  took  were  sometimes  unprepared,  and  not 
always  correct ;  they  were  often  common  enough  to  be 
trite,  and  did  not  display  the  least  musical  talent ;  but 
this  occupation  afforded  him  a  certain  indefinable  melan- 
choly pleasure. 

At  every  change  of  harmony,  he  waited  in  breathless 
expectancy  what  would  come  out  of  it,  and,  when  some- 
thing came,  his  imagination  dimly  supphed  what  was 
lacking.  It  seemed  to  him  that  he  heard  hundreds  of 
melodies :  a  chorus  and  an  orchestra,  in  conformity  with 
his  harmony. 

But  he  derived  his  chief  pleasure  from  the  intensified 


76        A   MORNING   OP   A   LANDED    PROPRIETOR 

activity  of  his  imagination,  which  at  that  time  brought 
up  before  him,  disconnectedly  and  fragmentarily,  but  with 
wonderful  clearness,  the  most  varied,  mixed,  and  absurd 
images  and  pictures  from  the  past  and  future. 

Now  he  saw  the  bloated  form  of  Dav^dka  the  White 
timidly  blinking  with  his  white  eyelashes  at  the  sight  of 
his  mother's  black,  venous  fist;  his  curved  back,  and 
immense  hands  covered  with  white  hair,  answering  to 
all  tortures  and  deprivations  with  patience  and  submis- 
sion to  fate. 

Then  he  saw  the  nimble  nurse,  emboldened  through 
her  association  with  the  manor,  and  he  imagined  her 
visiting  the  villages  and  preaching  to  the  peasants  that 
they  must  conceal  their  money  from  the  proprietors ;  and 
he  unconsciously  repeated  to  himself, "  Yes,  it  is  necessary 
to  conceal  the  money  from  the  proprietors ! " 

Then  suddenly  presented  itself  to  him  the  blonde  head 
of  his  future  wife,  for  some  reason  in  tears,  and  in  great 
anguish  leaning  upon  his  shoulder. 

Then  he  saw  Ohuris's  kindly  blue  eyes,  tenderly  looking 
down  upon  his  only  thick-bellied  little  son.  Yes,  he  saw 
in  him  not  only  a  son,  but  a  helper  and  saviour.  "  This 
is  love  ! "  he  whispered. 

Then  he  recalled  l^ikhvauka's  mother,  and  the  expres- 
sion of  long-suffering  and  forgiveness  which  he  had 
noticed  upon  her  aged  face,  in  spite  of  her  prominent 
tooth  and  abhorrent  features.  "  No  doubt,  I  am  the  first 
one  to  have  noticed  this,  in  the  seventy  years  of  her  life," 
he  thought ;  and  he  whispered,  "  It  is  strange,"  and  con- 
tinued unconsciously  to  run  his  fingers  over  the  keys  and 
to  listen  to  the  sounds  they  made. 

Then  he  vividly  recalled  his  flight  from  the  apiary,  and 
the  expression  of  the  faces  of  Ignat  and  Karp,  who  evi- 
dently wanted  to  laugh,  but  pretended  that  they  did  not 
see  him. 

He  blushed,  and  involuntarily  looked  at  his  nurse,  who 


A  MOKNING  OF  A  LANDED  PROPRIETOR    77 

remained  sitting  at  the  door,  silently  gazing  at  him,  and 
now  and  then  shaking  her  gray  hair. 

Suddenly  there  came  to  him  the  trdyka  of  sweaty  horses, 
and  Ilyiishka's  handsome  and  strong  figure,  with  his  blond 
curls,  beaming,  narrow  blue  eyes,  ruddy  cheeks,  and  light- 
coloured  down  just  beginning  to  cover  his  lip  and  chin. 
He  remembered  how  Ilyiishka  was  afraid  he  would  not 
be  permitted  to  go  teaming,  and  how  warmly  he  defended 
his  cause,  which  he  liked  so  well.  And  he  saw  a  gray, 
misty  morning,  a  shppery  highway,  and  a  long  row  of 
heavily  laden,  mat-covered  three-horse  wagons,  marked 
with  big  black  letters.  The  stout-legged,  well-fed  horses, 
jingling  their  bells,  bending  their  backs,  and  tugging  at 
their  traces,  pulled  evenly  up-hill,  straining  their  legs  so 
that  the  sponges  might  catch  on  the  slippery  road.  Down- 
hill, past  the  train  of  wagons,  came  dashing  the  stage, 
tinkling  its  little  bells,  which  reechoed  far  into  the  large 
forest  that  extended  on  both  sides  of  the  road. 

"  Whew ! "  shouted,  in  a  childish  voice,  the  first  driver, 
with  a  tin  label  on  his  lambskin  cap,  raising  his  whip 
above  his  head. 

Karp,  with  his  red  beard  and  gloomy  look,  was  striding 
heavily  in  his  huge  boots  beside  the  front  wheel  of  the 
first  wagon.  From  the  second  wagon  stuck  out  the  hand- 
some head  of  Ilyiishka,  who,  at  the  early  dawn,  was 
making  himself  snug  and  warm  under  the  front  mat. 
Three  trdykas,  laden  with  portmanteaus,  dashed  by,  with 
rumbling  wheels,  jingling  bells,  and  shouts.  Ilyushka 
again  hid  his  handsome  head  under  the  mat,  and  fell 
asleep. 

Now  it  was  a  clear,  warm  evening.  The  plank  gate 
creaked  for  the  tired  teams  that  were  crowded  in  front 
of  the  tavern,  and  the  tall,  mat-covered  wagons,  jolting 
over  the  board  that  lay  in  the  gate  entrance,  disappeared 
one  after  another  under  the  spacious  sheds. 

Ilyushka  merrily  greeted  the  fair-complexioned,  broad- 


78        A   MORNING    OF    A    LANDED    PROPRIETOR 

chested  landlady,  who  asked,  "  Do  you  come  far  ?  And 
will  you  have  a  good  supper  ? "  looking  with  pleasure  at 
the  handsome  lad,  with  his  sparkling,  kindly  eyes.^ 

Now,  having  unharnessed  the  horses,  he  went  into  the 
close  hut  crowded  with  people,  made  the  sign  of  the  cross, 
sat  down  at  a  full  wooden  bowl,  and  chatted  merrily  with 
the  landlady  and  his  companions. 

And  then  his  bed  was  under  the  starry  heaven,  which 
was  visible  from  the  shed,  and  upon  the  fragrant  hay, 
near  his  horses  which,  stamping  and  snorting,  rummaged 
through  the  fodder  in  the  wooden  cribs.  He  walked  up 
to  the  hay,  turned  to  the  east,  and,  crossing  himself  some 
thirty  times  in  succession,  over  his  broad,  powerful  breast, 
and  shaking  his  bright  curls,  he  said  the  Lord's  Prayer, 
and  repeated  some  twenty  times  the  "  Kyrie  eleison,"  and, 
wrapping  his  cloak  around  body  and  head,  slept  the 
sound,  careless  sleep  of  a  strong,  healthy  man. 

And  he  saw  in  his  dream  the  city  of  Kiev,  with  its 
saints  and  throngs  of  pilgrims ;  Eomen,  with  its  merchants 
and  merchandise;  and  Odessa  and  the  endless  blue  sea 
with  its  white  sails ;  and  the  city  of  Constantinople,  with 
its  golden  houses,  and  white-breasted,  black-browed  Turk- 
ish maidens ;  and  he  flew  there,  rising  on  some  invisible 
pinions.  He  flew  freely  and  easily,  farther  and  farther, 
and  saw  below  him  golden  cities  bathed  in  bright  splen- 
dour, and  the  blue  heaven  with  its  pure  stars,  and  the 
blue  sea  with  its  white  sails,  and  he  felt  a  joy  and  pleas- 
ure in  flying  ever  farther  and  farther  — 

"  Glorious ! "  Nekhlyiidov  whispered  to  himself,  and  the 
thought  came  to  him,  "  Why  am  I  not  Hyiishka  ? " 


THE    COSSACKS 

A  Novel   of  the  Caucasus 
1852 


THE    COSSACKS 

A  Novel  of  the  Caucasus 


I. 

Everything  was  quiet  in  Moscow.  In  a  few  isolated 
places  could  be  heard  the  squeak  of  wheels  over  the 
wintry  street.  There  were  no  lights  in  the  windows,  and 
the  lamps  were  extinguished.  From  the  churches  rang 
out  the  sounds  of  bells  which,  billowing  over  the  sleepy 
city,  reminded  one  of  morning. 

The  streets  were  empty.  Here  and  there  a  night  cab- 
man caused  the  sand  and  snow  to  become  mixed  under 
the  narrow  runners  of  his  sleigh,  and,  betaking  himself 
to  the  opposite  corner,  fell  asleep,  waiting  for  a  passenger. 
An  old  woman  walked  by,  on  her  way  to  church,  where, 
reflected  from  the  gold  foils  of  the  holy  images,  burnt 
with  a  red  light  a  few  unsym metrically  placed  wax 
tapers.  Working  people  were  rising  after  the  long 
winter  night,  and  walking  to  work. 

But  for  gentlemen  it  was  still  evening. 

In  one  of  the  windows  of  Chevalier's  establishment 
there  peeped,  contrary  to  law,  a  light  through  the  closed 
shutter.  At  the  entrance  stood  a  carriage,  a  sleigh,  and 
cabs,  closely  pressed  together,  with  their  backs  to  the 
curbstone.     Here  was  also  a  stage  troyka.     The  janitor, 

81 


82  THE    COSSACKS 

wrapped  in  his  furs  and  crouching,  seemed  to  be  hiding 
arouud  the  corner  of  the  house. 

"  What  makes  them  keep  up  this  unending  prattle  ? " 
thought  the  lackey  with  the  haggard  face,  who  was 
sitting  in  the  antechamber.  "  And  that,  too,  when  I  am 
keeping  watch ! " 

In  the  adjoining,  brightly  illuminated  room  could  be 
heard  the  voices  of  three  young  men,  who  were  dining. 
They  were  sitting  at  a  table,  upon  which  stood  the  rem- 
nants of  a  supper  and  wine.  One  of  them,  a  small, 
clean-looking,  haggard,  and  homely  fellow  was  seated 
and  looking  with  kindly,  though  wearied,  eyes  at  him 
who  was  to  depart  Another,  a  tall  man,  was  reclining 
near  the  table,  that  was  covered  with  empty  bottles,  and 
playing  with  his  watch-key.  A  third,  in  a  new  short  fur 
coat,  paced  the  room,  now  and  then  stopped  to  crack  an 
almond  between  his  fairly  fat  and  powerful  fingers,  with 
their  manicured  nails,  and  smiled  for  some  reason  or 
other.  His  eyes  and  face  were  flushed.  He  spoke  with 
ardour  and  in  gestures ;  but  it  was  evident  that  he  could 
not  find  words,  and  that  all  the  words  which  occurred 
to  him  appeared  insufficient  to  express  everything  that 
was  upon  his  heart.     He  was  continually  smiling. 

"  Now  I  may  say  everything ! "  said  the  departing  man. 
"I  do  not  mean  to  justify  myself,  but  I  should  like  to 
have  you  understand  me  as  I  understand  myself,  and  not 
as  the  malicious  regard  this  affair.  You  say  that  I  am 
guilty  toward  her,"  he  turned  to  the  one  who  looked  upon 
him  with  kindly  eyes. 

"  Yes,  guilty,"  answered  the  short,  homely  fellow,  and 
there  seemed  to  be  even  more  kindness  and  weariness 
expressed  in  his  glance. 

"I  know  why  you  say  so,"  answered  the  departing 
man.  "  To  be  loved  is,  in  your  opinion,  just  such  happi- 
ness as  to  love,  and  it  is  sufficient  for  a  whole  hfe,  if  you 
once  obtain  it." 


THE    COSSACKS  83 

"  Yes,  quite  sufficient,  my  dear !  More  than  enough," 
confirmed  the  short,  homely  fellow,  opening  and  closing 
his  eyes. 

"  But  why  should  one  not  love  ? "  said  the  departing 
man,  falling  into  a  reverie,  and  looking  at  his  companion, 
as  though  vdth  compassion.  "  Why  not  love  ?  Don't 
feel  like  loving  —  No,  to  be  loved  is  a  misfortune  when 
you  feel  that  you  are  guilty  because  you  are  not  returning 
the  love,  nor  ever  can  return  it.  0  Lord  ! "  and  he  waved 
his  hand.  "  If  all  this  had  happened  in  a  sensible  way  ! 
But  no,  it  is  all  topsyturvy,  not  according  to  our  ways, 
but  in  its  own  peculiar  manner.  I  feel  as  though  I  had 
stolen  that  sentiment.  And  you  think  the  same  way ; 
do  not  deny  it,  you  certainly  must  think  that  way.  And 
would  you  believe  it  ?  Of  all  the  mean  and  stupid  acts 
that  I  have  managed  to  coriimit  in  my  life,  this  is  the 
only  one  for  which  I  do  not  feel,  nor  ever  can  feel, 
remorse.  Neither  in  the  beginning,  nor  later,  have  I 
lied  to  myself,  nor  to  her.  I  imagined  that  at  last  I  had 
fallen  in  love  with  .  her ;  and  then  I  saw  that  it  was  an 
involuntary  lie,  that  it  was  impossible  thus  to  love,  and 
I  was  unable  to  go  any  farther ;  but  she  did  go  farther. 
Am  I  to  be  blamed  because  I  could  not  ?  What  could 
I  do  ? " 

"  Well,  now  it  is  all  ended  ! "  said  his  friend,  lighting 
a  cigar  in  order  to  dispel  sleep.  "  There  is  this  much : 
you  have  not  loved  yet,  and  you  do  not  know  what 
love  is." 

The  one  who  wore  the  short  fur  coat  was  on  the  point 
of  saying  something,  and  he  grasped  his  head  with  both 
his  hands.  But  he  did  not  express  what  he  intended 
to  say. 

"  I  have  not  loved !  Yes,  it  is  true,  I  have  not  loved. 
I  certainly  desire  to  love,  and  there  is  nothing  stronger 
than  my  desire !  And  then  again,  is  there  such  a  love  ? 
There  always  remains  something  unfinished.     Well,  what 


84 


THE    COSSACKS 


is  the  use  of  speaking  ?  I  have  blundered  and  bhmdered 
in  my  hfe.  But  now  all  is  ended,  you  are  right.  And  I 
feel  that  a  new  life  is  to  begin." 

"  In  which  you  will  blunder  again,"  said  the  one  who 
was  lying  on  the  sofa  and  playing  with  his  watch-key ; 
but  the  departing  man  did  not  hear  him. 

"  I  am  both  sad  and  happy  to  leave,"  he  continued. 
"  Why  sad  ?     I  do  not  know." 

And  the  departing  man  began  to  speak  of  himself, 
without  noticing  that  the  others  were  not  as  much  inter- 
ested in  this  as  he.  Man  is  never  such  an  egotist  as  in 
the  moment  of  sentimental  transport.  It  seems  to  him 
then  that  there  is  nothing  in  the  world  more  beautiful 
and  interesting  than  he  himself. 

"  Dmitri  Andreevich,  the  driver  refuses  to  wait ! "  said, 
upon  entering,  a  young  manorial  servant,  in  a  fur  coat, 
and  wrapped  in  a  scarf.  "  The  horses  have  been  stand- 
ing since  twelve  o'clock,  and  now  it  is  four." 

Dmitri  Andreevich  looked  at  his  Vanyusha.  In  his 
scarf,  felt  boots,  and  sleepy  face  he  heard  the  voice  of 
another  life  which  called  him,  —  a  life  of  labour,  priva- 
tion, and  activity. 

"  That  is  so,  good-bye ! "  he  said,  searching  for  the 
unhooked  eye  of  his  fur  coat. 

In  spite  of  the  advice  of  his  friends  to  give  the  driver 
a  poiorboire,  he  donned  his  cap,  and  stood  in  the  middle 
of  the  room.  They  kissed  once,  twice,  then  stopped,  and 
kissed  for  the  third  time.  The  one  who  was  in  the  short 
fur  coat  walked  up  to  the  table,  emptied  a  beaker  that 
was  standing  upon  it,  took  the  hand  of  the  short,  homely 
fellow,  aiiu  blushed. 

"  No.  I  will  say  it  —  I  ought  to  be  and  can  be  frank 
with  you,  because  I  love  you  —  You  love  her  ?  I  always 
thought  so  —  yes  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  answered  his  friend,  smiling  more  gently  still. 

**  And  maybe  —  " 


THE    COSSACKS  85 

"Please,  I  have  been  ordered  to  put  out  the  lights," 
said  the  sleepy  lackey  who  had  heard  the  last  conversa- 
tion, and  was  ruminating  why  it  was  gentlemen  eternally 
talked  of  one  and  the  same  thing.  "  Against  whom  shall 
the  bill  be  charged  ?  Against  you  ? "  he  added,  turning 
to  the  tall  gentleman,  knowing  in  advance  who  it  would 
be. 

"Against  me,"  said  the  tall  man.     "  How  much  is  it  ? " 

"  Twenty-six  roubles." 

The  tall  man  mused  for  awhile,  but  said  nothing,  and 
placed  the  bill  in  his  pocket. 

The  other  two  continued  their  conversation. 

"  Good-bye,  you  are  a  fine  fellow ! "  said  the  short, 
homely  man  with  the  gentle  eyes. 

Tears  stood  in  the  eyes  of  both.  They  walked  out  to 
the  entrance. 

"  Oh,  yes ! "  said  the  departing  man,  blushing,  and  turn- 
ing to  the  tall  gentleman.  "  You  w^ill  fix  the  bill  with 
Chevalier,  and  then  write  to  me  about  it." 

"  All  right,  aU  right,"  said  the  tall  gentleman,  putting 
on  his  gloves.  "  How  I  envy  you  ! "  he  added,  quite  un- 
expectedly, as  they  walked  out  to  the  entrance. 

The  departing  man  seated  himself  in  his  sleigh,  wrapped 
himself  in  his  fur  coat,  and  said,  "  Well,  we  will  start," 
and  moved  in  his  seat  to  give  a  place  to  him  who  had 
said  that  he  envied  him ;  his  voice  was  trembling. 

The  friend  who  saw  him  off  said,  "  Good-bye,  Mitya, 
may  God  grant  you  —  "  He  did  not  wish  anything  but 
that  he  should  leave  as  soon  as  possible,  and  so  he  could 
not  finish  what  it  was  he  wished  him. 

They  were  silent.     Again  somebody  said,  "  Good-bye  ! " 

Somebody  said,  "Go!"  and  the  driver  started  his 
horses. 

"  Elizar,  the  carriage ! "  shouted  one  of  these  who  had 
seen  him  off. 

The  cabmen  and  the  coachman  stirred,  called  to  their 


86  THE   COSSACKS 

horses,  and  pulled  the  reins.  The  frozen  sleigh  squeaked 
over  the  snow. 

"  This  Olenin  is  a  fine  fellow,"  said  one  of  the  two. 
"  But  what  pleasure  is  there  in  going  to  the  Caucasus, 
and  as  a  yunker  ^  at  that  ?  I  would  not  do  it  for  any- 
thing.    Will  you  dine  at  the  club  to-morrow  ? " 

"  Yes." 

And  the  friends  parted. 

The  departing  man  felt  warm,  even  hot,  in  his  fur  coat. 
He  sat  down  in  the  bed  of  the  sleigh  and  stretched  him- 
self ;  and  the  shaggy  stage-horses  flew  from  one  dark 
street  into  another,  past  houses  he  had  never  seen.  It 
appeared  to  Olenin  that  only  those  who  departed  trav- 
elled through  these  streets.  Around  him  it  was  dark, 
speechless,  gloomy,  and  his  soul  was  full  of  recollections, 
love,  regrets,  and  of  pleasurable  tears  that  choked  him. 

*  A  uon-commissioned  officer  of  the  nobility. 


II. 

"  I  LOVE  !  I  love  them  very  much !  They  are  fine  ! 
It  is  good ! "  he  repeated,  and  he  wanted  to  weep.  But 
he  was  not  quite  sure  why  he  wanted  to  weep,  who  were 
fine,  and  whom  he  loved. 

He  now  gazed  at  some  house,  and  wondered  why  it  was 
built  in  such  a  strange  manner ;  and  again  he  wondered 
why  the  driver  and  Vanyilsha,  who  were  such  strangers 
to  him,  were  so  close  to  him  and  jolted  and  shook  simul- 
taneously with  him  from  the  sudden  jerks  of  the  side 
horses  who  tugged  at  the  frozen  traces,  and  he  repeated, 
"They  are  fine,  I  love  them,"  and  once  he  even  said, 
"  There  she  goes  !  Superb  ! "  and  he  wondered  why  he 
said  that,  and  asked  himself,  "  Am  I  drunk  ?  " 

It  is  true  nearly  two  bottles  of  wine  had  fallen  to  liis 
share,  but  it  was  not  the  wine  alone  that  had  produced 
that  effect  upon  Ol^nin.  He  thought  of  what  appeared 
to  him  to  be  the  intimate  words  of  friendship  which  had 
timidly,  as  though  accidentally,  been  told  him  at  his 
departure.  He  thought  of  the  pressure  of  the  hands,  of 
the  glances,  the  silence,  and  the  voice  of  him  who  said 
"  Good-bye,  Mitya ! "  when  he  was  seated  in  the  sleigh. 
He  thought  of  his  own  determined  frankness.  And  all 
this  touched  him. 

Before  his  departure,  not  only  his  friends  and  his  rela- 
tives, not  only  indifferent  people,  but  even  those  who  were 
unsympathetic,  or  ill-wishing  —  all  seemed  to  have  been  in 
league  to  love  him  better,  and  to  forgive  him,  as  before 
confession  or  death. 

87 


88  THE    COSSACKS 

"Maybe  I  shall  not  return  from  the  Caucasus,"  he 
thought.  And  he  thought  that  he  loved  his  friends,  and 
somebody  else.  And  he  was  sorry  for  himself.  But  it 
was  not  the  love  for  his  friends  that  touched  him  and 
elevated  his  soul,  so  that  he  was  unable  to  restrain  those 
meaningless  words  that  issued  unbidden  from  his  mouth, 
—  nor  was  it  the  love  for  a  woman  (he  had  never  loved) 
that  had  brought  him  to  this  state.  It  was  the  love  of 
self,  the  ardent,  hopeful,  young  love  of  everything  good  in 
his  soul  (it  seemed  to  hira  that  it  was  filled  with  nothing 
but  that  which  was  good),  that  caused  him  to  weep  and 
mutter  incoherent  words. 

OMnin  was  a  young  man  who  had  never  finished  his 
university  course ;  who  had  never  served  (he  was  merely 
a  supernumerary  in  some  government  office) ;  who  had 
spent  half  his  fortune ;  and  who  until  his  twenty-fourth 
year  had  chosen  no  career  for  himself,  and  had  never  done 
anything.  He  was  what  is  called  a  "  young  man "  in 
Moscow  society. 

At  eighteen  years  of  age  Ol^nin  had  been,  as  free  as 
only  were  rich  young  Eussians  of  the  forties  who  at  an 
early  age  were  left  as  orphans.  He  knew  neither  phys- 
ical nor  moral  fetters ;  he  could  do  everything,  and  he 
wanted  nothing,  and  nothing  bound  him.  He  had  neither 
family,  nor  country,  nor  faith,  nor  want.  He  believed  in 
nothing,  and  acknowledged  nothing.  Yet,  though  he 
acknowledged  nothing,  he  was  not  a  gloomy,  hlase,  and 
meditative  youth,  but,  on  the  contrary,  was  easily  carried 
away. 

He  had  decided  that  there  was  no  love,  and  yet  the 
presence  of  a  young  and  beautiful  woman  made  him 
breathless  with  delight.  He  had  long  known  that  hon- 
ours and  distinction  were  nonsense,  but  he  experienced 
an  involuntary  pleasure  when  Prince  S(5rgi  walked  up  to 
him  at  a  ball,  and  addressed  him  graciously. 

He  allowed  himself  to  be  carried  away  by  his  raptures 


THE   COSSACKS  89 

only  so  long  as  they  did  not  bind  him.  The  moment  he 
devoted  himself  to  one  subject,  and  felt  the  approach  of 
labour  and  struggles,  —  the  petty  struggles  with  life,  —  he 
instinctively  hastened  to  tear  himself  away  from  his  sen- 
timent or  from  affairs,  and  to  regain  his  liberty.  Thus 
he  had  begun  his  worldly  life,  his  service,  farming,  music, 
to  which  he  thought  at  one  time  of  devoting  himself,  and 
even  love  of  women,  in  which  he  did  not  believe. 

He  pondered  how  to  expend  all  that  strength  of  youth, 
which  comes  to  man  only  once  in  a  lifetime,  —  whether 
on  art,  on  science,  on  love  for  a  woman,  or  on  practical 
life;  he  wished  to  employ  not  the  power  of  his  mind, 
heart,  and  education,  but  that  uurepeated  impulse,  that 
power,  granted  to  man  but  once,  to  make  of  himself 
everything  he  wishes,  and,  as  he  thinks,  everything  of 
the  world  he  may  wish. 

It  is  true  there  are  people  who  lack  this  impulse,  and 
who,  upon  entering  life,  put  on  the  first  yoke  they  find, 
and  continue  to  work  honestly  in  it  until  the  end  of  their 
days.  But  Ol^nin  was  too  vividly  conscious  of  the 
presence  of  that  all-powerful  god  of  youth,  of  that  ability 
to  transform  himself  into  one  desire  and  one  thought,  of 
the  ability  to  wish  and  do,  to  throw  himself  headlong 
into  a  bottomless  abyss,  not  knowing  why,  or  wherefore. 
He  carried  this  consciousness  with  him,  was  proud  of  it, 
and,  without  knowing  it,  was  happy  in  its  possession. 

So  far  he  had  loved  himself  only,  nor  could  he  help 
loving  himself,  because  he  expected  nothing  but  good 
things  of  himself,  and  had  not  yet  been  disappointed  in 
himself.  At  his  departure  from  Moscow  he  was  in  that 
happy,  youthful  frame  of  mind  when  a  young  man, 
having  become  conscious  of  his  previous  mistakes,  sud- 
denly says  to  himself  that  the  past  was  wrong,  that 
everything  that  preceded  was  accidental  and  insignificant, 
that  he  had  not  heretofore  tried  to  live  decently,  but  tliat 
now,  with  his  departure  from  Moscow,  a  new  life  would 


90  THE    COSSACKS 

begin,  in  which  there  would  be  none  of  those  blunders^ 
and  no  remorse,  and  in  which  he  certainly  would  be 
happy. 

When  one  sets  out  for  a  long  journey,  the  imagination 
at  the  first  two  stages  remains  in  the  place  whence  one 
has  set  out;  then,  suddenly,  on  the  first  morning  which 
one  passes  on  the  road,  one  is  transferred  to  the  goal  of 
the  journey,  and  there  builds  castles  of  the  future.  The 
same  happened  to  Ol^nin. 

As  lie  drove  out  of  the  city,  and  gazed  at  the  snow- 
covered  fields,  he  rejoiced  at  being  all  alone  in  their 
midst,  wrapped  himself  in  his  fur  coat,  let  himself  down 
in  the  bed  of  the  sleigh,  became  calm,  and  dozed  off.  His 
leave-taking  with  his  friends  unstrung  him,  and  he  recalled 
his  whole  last  winter  which  he  had  passed  in  Moscow ; 
and  pictures  of  that  past,  interrupted  by  indistinct 
thoughts  and  reproaches,  began  to  rise  unbidden  before 
his  imagination. 

He  recalled  the  friend  who  had  seen  him  off,  and  his 
relations  with  the  maiden  of  whom  they  had  been  speak- 
ing. That  girl  was  rich.  "  How  could  he  have  loved 
her,  when  he  knew  that  she  was  in  love  with  me  ? "  he 
thought,  and  evil  suspicions  rose  in  his  mind,  "When 
you  come  to  think  of  it,  there  is  much  dishonesty  in 
people.  But  why  have  I  not  yet  loved  ? "  the  question 
occurred  to  him.  "  Everybody  tells  me  that  I  have  not 
yet  loved.     Am  I  really  a  moral  monster  ?  " 

And  he  began  to  recall  the  subjects  of  his  temporary 
transports.  He  recalled  the  first  experience  of  his  worldly 
life,  and  the  sister  of  one  of  his  friends,  with  whom  he 
used  to  pass  evenings  at  the  table  with  a  lamp  upon  it 
that  cast  a  light  upon  her  slender  fingers  at  work,  and 
upon  the  lower  part  of  her  fair  oval  face,  and  he  remem- 
bered those  conversations  that  dragged  along  like  a 
child's  game  called  "  the  fox  is  alive,"  and  the  general 
awkwardness,  and  the  embarrassment,  and  the  continuous 


THE    COSSACKS  91 

feeling  of  provocation  at  this  strained  relation.  A  voice 
told  him,  "  It  is  not  that,  not  that,"  and  it  really  turned 
out  that  way. 

Then  he  recalled  the  ball  and  the  mazurka  with  beauti- 
ful D .     "  How  I  was  in  love  that  night,  and  how 

happy  I  was  !  And  how  pained  and  mortified  I  was  when 
1  awoke  the  next  morning,  and  felt  that  I  was  free  !  Why 
does  not  love  come  ?  and  bind  my  hands  and  feet  ? "  he 
thought.  "  No,  there  is  no  love !  My  neighbour,  who 
told  me,  and  Dubrdvin,  and  the  marshal  of  nobility,  that 
she  loved  the  stars,  was  not  that  either." 

And  he  thought  of  his  farming  activity  in  the  country, 
and  found  no  pleasant  incident  upon  which  to  rest  his 
memory.  "  Will  they  think  for  a  long  time  of  my  depar- 
ture ? "  it  suddenly  occurred  to  him.  But  whom  did  he 
mean  by  "  they  "  ?  He  did  not  know,  and  immediately  a 
thought  came  to  him  that  made  him  frown  and  utter 
indistinct  sounds:  it  was  the  recollection  of  M.  Capelle 
and  the  678  roubles  which  he  owed  his  tailor ;  and  he 
recalled  the  words  with  which  he  begged  the  tailor  to 
wait  another  year,  and  the  expression  of  amazement  and 
of  submission  to  fate  which  appeared  on  the  tailor's 
countenance. 

"  0  Lord,  Lord ! "  he  repeated,  blinking,  and  trying  to 
dispel  the  unbearable  thought.  "  And  yet,  she  loved  me, 
in  spite  of  it,"  he  thought  of  the  maiden  of  whom  they 
had  been  speaking  at  the  leave-taking.  "  If  I  married 
her,  I  should  have  no  debts,  but  now  I  still  owe 
Vasilev." 

And  he  recalled  the  last  evening  which  he  had  passed 
at  the  gaming-table  with  Vasilev  in  the  club,  whither  he 
had  driven  straight  from  her  house ;  and  he  recalled  his 
humiliating  requests  to  continue  playing,  and  Vasilev's 
cold  refusals.  "  One  year  of  strict  economy,  and  all  that 
will  be  paid,  and  the  devil  take  them  —  "  But  in  spite 
of  his  self-assurance,  he  again  started  to  count  up  his 


92  THE   COSSACKS 

debts,  and  to  consider  when  they  would  fall  due,  or  when 
he  should  be  able  to  pay  them. 

"  Why,  I  owe  Morelle,  also,  in  addition  to  Chevalier," 
he  suddenly  thought,  and  the  whole  night  in  which  he  had 
run  up  such  a  bill  stood  before  him.  It  was  a  carousal 
with  the  gipsies,  which  was  given  by  some  visitors  from 

St.  Petersburg,  Sashka  B ;,  aid-de-camp,  and  Prince 

D ,  and  that  distmguished  old  gentleman.     "  What 

makes  those  gentlemen  so  satisfied  with  themselves  ? "  he 
thought.  "  And  on  what  ground  do  they  form  a  separate 
circle  to  which  others  ought  to  feel  themselves  flattered  to 
be  admitted  ?  Because  they  are  aids-de-camp  ?  It  is 
really  terrible  what  stupid  and  mean  people  they  consider 
others  to  be!  However,  I  showed  them  that  I  did  not 
have  the  least  desire  to  get  better  acquainted  with  them. 
Still,  I  think,  Manager  Andrt^y  would  be  very  much  puz- 
zled if  he  heard  me  saying  '  thou '  to  such  a  gentleman  as 

Sashka  B ,  colonel  and  aid-de-camp  —     And  nobody 

drank  as  much  as  I  on  that  evening  ;  I  taught  the  gipsies 
a  new  song,  and  everybody  hstened.  Though  I  have  done 
many  a  foohsh  thing,  I  am  a  nice,  a  very  nice  young  man," 
he  thought. 

The  morning  found  Olenin  at  the  third  stage.  He 
drank  tea,  transferred  with  Vauyusha's  aid  the  bundles 
and  portmanteaus,  and  sat  down  gravely,  precisely,  and 
accurately  among  them,  knowing  where  each  thing  was, 
—  where  the  money  was  and  how  much  of  it ;  where  the 
passport,  and  the  stage  permit,  and  the  highway  receipt 
were,  —  and  all  that  seemed  to  him  so  practically  arranged 
that  he  was  happy,  and  the  distant  journey  presented 
itself  to  him  as  a  protracted  outing. 

During  the  morning  and  midday  he  was  lost  in  arith- 
metical calculations:  how  many  versts  he  had  behind 
him  ;  how  many  were  left  to  the  next  station  ;  how  many 
to  the  nearest  town  ;  to  dinner,  to  tea,  to  Stavrdpol ;  and 
what  part  of  the  whole  road  he  had  behind  him.     At  the 


THE    COSSACKS  93 

same  time  he  calculated  how  much  money  he  had  ;  how 
much  there  would  be  left;  how  much  he  needed  to 
acquit  himself  of  all  his  debts ;  aud  what  part  of  his  whole 
income  he  would  spend  in  a  month.  In  the  evening, 
after  having  had  his  tea,  he  figured  out  that  to  Stavropol 
seven-elevenths  of  the  whole  road  were  left;  his  debts 
amounted  to  but  seven  months  of  strict  economy,  and  to 
one-eighth  of  his  fortune ;  and  having  calmed  himself,  he 
wrapped  himself  up,  let  himself  down  in  the  bed  of  the 
sleigh,  and  again  fell  asleep. 

His  imagination  now  was  in  the  future,  in  the  Cau- 
casus. All  his  dreams  of  the  future  were  connected  with 
pictures  of  Amalat-bek,^  Circassian  maidens,  mountains, 
avalanches,  terrible  torrents,  and  perils.  All  that  pre- 
sented itself  in  a  dim  and  indistinct  shape ;  but  enticing 
glory  and  threatening  death  formed  the  chief  interest  of 
that  future. 

Now,  with  extraordinary  valour  aud  surprising  strength, 
he  killed  and  vanquished  an  endless  number  of  moun- 
taineers ;  now  he  was  himself  a  mountaineer,  and  to- 
gether with  them  defended  his  independence  against  the 
Eussians.  The  moment  he  thought  out  the  details,  he 
found  the  old  Moscow  faces  taking  part  in  them.    Sashka 

B fought  with  the  Eussians,  or  mountaineers,  against 

him.     He  knew  not  how,  but  even  M.  Capelle,  the  tailor, 
took  part  in  the  victor's  triumph. 

If  he  recalled  his  old  humiliations,  foibles,  and  mistakes 
in  connection  with  this,  that  reminiscence  gave  bim  only 
pleasure.  It  was  clear  that  there,  amidst  the  mountains, 
torrents,  Circassian  maidens,  and  perils,  these  mistakes 
could  not  be  repeated.  Having  once  made  that  confession 
to  himself,  there  was  an  end  to  them. 

There  was  one,  the  most  precious  dream,  which  mingled 
in  every  thought  of  the  young  man  about  the   future. 
This  dream  was  woman.     There,  among  the  mountains, 
1  Character  in  a  novel  by  Bestiizhev-Marlfnski. 


94  THE    COSSACKS 

she  presented  herself  to  his  imagination  in  the  shape  of  a 
Circassian  slave,  with  a  slender  figure,  long  braid,  and 
submissive,  deep  eyes.  He  saw  in  the  mountains  a  lonely 
cabin,  and  her  on  the  threshold,  waiting  for  him  while  he 
returned  to  her  tired,  covered  with  dust,  blood,  and 
glory ;  and  he  dreamed  of  her  kisses,  her  shoulders,  her 
sweet  voice,  her  submissiveness.  She  was  charming,  but 
uneducated,  wild,  coarse. 

In  the  long  winter  evenings  he  would  begin  to  educate 
her.  She  was  intelligent,  quick-witted,  gifted,  and  rapidly 
acquired  all  the  necessary  information.  Why  not  ?  She 
might  easily  learn  the  languages,  read  the  productions  of 
French  literature,  and  understand  them.  "  Notre  Dame 
de  Paris,"  for  example,  would  no  doubt  please  her.  She 
might  even  speak  French.  In  the  drawing-room  she 
might  possess  more  native  dignity  than  a  lady  of  the 
highest  circles  of  society.  She  could  sing,  simply,  power- 
fully, and  passionately. 

"  Oh,  what  bosh  ! "  he  said  to  himself. 

Just  then  they  arrived  at  some  station,  and  it  was 
necessary  to  climb  from  one  sleigh  into  another,  and 
to  give  a  pourhoire.  But  he  again  searched  with  his 
imagination  for  the  nonsense  which  he  had  left  off,  and 
again  there  stood  before  him  Circassian  maidens,  glory, 
return  to  Russia,  an  aid-de-campship,  a  charming  wife. 
"  But  there  is  no  love  !  "  he  said  to  himself.  "  Honours 
are  nonsense.  And  the  six  hundred  and  seventy-eight 
roubles  ?  And  the  conquered  territory  which  would  give 
me  more  wealth  than  I  should  need  for  all  my  life  ? 
Indeed,  it  will  not  be  well  to  make  use  of  all  that  wealth 
by  myself.  I  shall  have  to  distribute  it.  But  to  whom  ? 
Six  hundred  and  seventy-eight  roubles  to  Capelle,  and 
then  we  will  see  —  " 

And  dim  visions  shrouded  his  thoughts,  and  only 
Vanyusha's  voice  and  a  feeling  of  interrupted  motion 
disturbed  his  sound,  youthful  sleep,  and,  without  being 


THE    COSSACKS  95 

conscious  of  it,  he  crawled   into  another  sleigh   at  the 
following  station,  and  travelled  on. 

The  next  morning  was  the  same,  —  the  same  stations, 
the  same  tea-drinking,  the  same  cruppers  of  the  horses  in 
motion,  the  same  short  chats  with  Vanyusha,  the  same 
indistinct  dreams  and  the  drowsiness  in  the  evening, 
and  the  tired,  sound,  youthful  sleep  during  the  night. 


m. 

The  farther  Olenin  travelled  from  the  centre  of  Russia, 
the  more  distant  his  memories  seemed  to  him ;  and  the 
nearer  he  approached  the  Caucasus,  the  happier  he  felt. 
"  To  go  away  for  ever,  and  never  to  come  back,  and  not 
to  appear  in  society,"  it  sometimes  occurred  to  him. 
"  The  people  that  I  see  here  are  no  people ;  no  one 
knows  me  here,  and  not  one  of  them  can  ever  be  in 
Moscow  and  in  the  society  in  which  I  moved,  or  find  out 
anything  about  my  past.  And  not  one  of  that  society 
will  ever  know  what  I  was  doing  when  I  hved  among 
those  people." 

And  an  entirely  new  feeling  of  freedom  from  his  whole 
past  seized  him  among  the  vulgar  beings  whom  he  met  on 
the  road,  and  whom  he  did  not  regard  as  people  on  the 
same  level  with  his  Moscow  acquaintances.  The  coarser 
the  people  were,  and  the  fewer  the  signs  of  civilization,  the 
freer  he  felt  himself. 

Stavropol,  through  which  he  passed,  mortified  him. 
The  shop-signs,  —  nay,  French  signs,  —  the  ladies  in  a  car- 
riage, the  cabmen  wlio  stood  in  the  square,  the  boulevard, 
and  a  gentleman  in  an  overcoat  and  hat,  who  was  strolling 
in  the  boulevard  and  glancing  at  the  stranger,  affected 
him  painfully.  "  IMaybe  these  people  know  some  of  my 
acquaintances,"  and  he  again  recalled  the  club,  the  tailor, 
the  cards,  and  society  — 

After  Stavropol,  however,  everything  went  satisfac- 
torily :  it  was  all  wild  and,  besides,  beautiful  and  warlike. 
And  Olenin  grew  happier  and  happier.     All  the  Cossacks, 

96 


THE   COSSACKS  97 

drivers,  and  inspectors  seemed  to  him  to  be  simple 
creatures  with  whom  he  could  make  simple  jokes,  and 
chat,  without  stopping  to  consider  to  what  class  of  society 
they  belonged.  They  all  belonged  to  the  human  race, 
which  was  unconsciously  dear  to  Ol^nin,  and  they  all 
were  friendly  to  him. 

As  far  back  as  the  Land  of  the  Don  Army  his  sleigh 
had  been  exchanged  for  a  cart,  and  beyond  Stavropol  it 
grew  so  warm  that  Olenin  travelled  without  a  fur  coat. 
It  was  spring,  an  unexpected,  joyous  spring  for  Olenin. 

At  night  they  could  not  leave  the  villages,  and  they 
said  that  in  the  evening  it  was  dangerous  to  travel; 
Vanyiisha  shuddered,  and  a  loaded  gun  lay  in  the  stage 
vehicle.  Olenin  felt  happier  still.  At  one  station,  the 
inspector  told  of  a  terrible  murder  that  had  lately  hap- 
pened on  the  road.     They  now  and  then  met  armed  men. 

"  That  is  where  it  begins !  "  Olt^nin  said  to  himself,  and 
waited  for  the  sight  of  the  snow-capped  mountains,  about 
which  he  had  been  told  so  much.  Once,  toward  evening, 
a  Nogay  driver  pointed  with  his  whip  at  the  mountains 
beyond  the  clouds.  Olenin  eagerly  looked  at  them,  but 
it  was  misty,  and  the  clouds  half-concealed  the  moun- 
tains. Olenin  saw  something  gray,  white,  and  fleecy,  and, 
however  much  he  tried,  he  could  not  find  anything 
attractive  in  the  view  of  the  mountains,  of  which  he  had 
read  and  heard  so  much.  He  concluded  that  the  moun- 
tains and  the  clouds  looked  precisely  alike,  and  that  the 
special  beauty  of  the  snow-capped  mountains,  of  which 
he  had  been  told  so  much,  was  just  such  a  fiction 
as  Bach's  music,  and  the  love  for  a  woman,  in  neither 
of  which  he  beheved,  and  he  cea.sed  waiting  for  tlie 
mountains. 

But  on  the  following  day,  early  in  the  morning,  he 
was  awakened  by  the  dampness  in  his  vehicle,  and 
he  indifferently  turned  his  eyes  to  the  right.  It  was 
a  very  clear  morning.     Suddenly  he  saw,  some  twenty 


98  THE    COSSACKS 

steps  from  him,  as  he  thought  at  first,  pure  white  masses, 
with  their  delicate  contours  and  the  fantastic  and  sharply 
defined  outline  of  their  summits,  against  the  distant  sky. 
And  when  he  became  aware  of  the  great  distance  between 
him  and  the  mountains  and  the  sky,  and  of  the  immen- 
sity of  the  mountains,  and  when  he  felt  the  immeasurable- 
ness  of  that  beauty,  he  was  frightened,  thinking  that  it 
was  a  vision,  a  dream.  He  shook  himself,  in  order  to 
be  rid  of  his  sleep.     The  mountains  remained  the  same. 

"  What  is  this  ?     What  is  it  ? "  he  asked  the  driver. 

"The  mountains,"  the  Nogay  answered,  with  indiffer- 
ence. 

"  I  myself  have  been  looking  at  them  for  a  long  time," 
said  Vanyiisha.  "  It  is  beautiful !  They  will  not  believe 
it  at  home  ! " 

In  the  rapid  motion  of  the  vehicle  over  the  even  road, 
the  mountains  seemed  to  be  running  along  the  horizon, 
gleaming  in  the  rising  sun  with  their  rosy  summits.  At 
first  the  mountains  only  surprised  01(5nin,  but  later  they 
gave  him  pleasure.  And  later,  as  he  gazed  longer  at  this 
chain  of  snow-capped  mountains,  which  were  not  con- 
nected with  other  black  mountains,  but  rose  directly 
from  the  steppe,  he  began  by  degrees  to  understand  their 
full  beauty,  and  to  "  feel "  the  mountains. 

From  that  moment,  everything  he  saw,  everything  he 
thought,  everything  he  felt,  assumed  for  him  a  new, 
severely  majestic  character,  that  of  the  mountains.  All 
the  Moscow  reminiscences,  his  shame  and  remorse,  all  the 
trite  dreams  of  the  Caucasus,  everything  disappeared, 
and  never  returned  again.  "  Now  it  has  begun,"  a  solemn 
voice  said  to  him.  And  the  road,  and  the  distant  line 
of  the  Tt^rek,  and  the  villages,  and  the  people,  all  that 
appeared  to  him  no  longer  a  trifling  matter. 

He  looked  at  the  sky,  and  he  thought  of  the  moun- 
tains. He  looked  at  himself,  and  at  Vanyiisha,  —  and 
again  the  mountains.     There,  two  Cossacks  rode  by,  and 


THE    COSSACKS  99 

their  muskets  in  cases  evenly  vibrated  on  their  backs, 
and  their  horses  intermingled  their  chestnut  and  gray 
legs,  —  and  the  mountains.  Beyond  the  Terek  was  seen 
the  smoke  in  a  native  village,  —  and  the  mountains. 

The  sun  rose  and  glistened  on  the  T^rek  beyond  the 
reeds,  —  and  the  mountains.  From  the  Cossack  village 
came  a  native  cart,  and  women,  beautiful  young  women, 
walked,  —  and  the  mountains.  "  Abr^ks  ^  race  through 
the  steppes,  and  I  am  travelling,  and  fear  them  not :  I  have 
a  gun,  and  strength,  and  youth,"  —  and  the  mountains. 

1  Mountaineer  braves. 


IV. 

The  whole  part  of  the  Terek  line,  along  which  the 
Greb^n  Cossack  villages  are  located,  is  about  eighty 
versts  long,  and  bears  a  uniform  character,  both  as  to 
topography  and  population.  The  Terek,  which  divides 
the  Cossacks  from  the  mountaineers,  flows  turbidly  and 
rapidly,  but  now  broadly  and  calmly,  continually  deposit- 
ing the  grayish  sand  on  the  low,  reed-covered  right  bank, 
and  washing  away  the  steep,  but  not  high,  left  shore  with 
its  roots  of  century  oaks,  rotting  plane-trees,  and  young 
underbrush. 

On  the  right  bank  are  situated  peaceful,  but  still  rest- 
less, native  villages ;  on  the  left  bank  lie  the  Cossack 
villages,  at  half  a  verst  from  the  river,  and  at  the  distance 
of  from  seven  to  eight  versts  from  each  other.  In  former 
days  the  greater  number  of  these  villages  were  on  the 
very  shore ;  but  the  T^rek  deflected  every  year  more  and 
more  to  the  north  of  the  mountains,  and  undermined 
them,  so  that  now  only  weed-grown  old  town  locations, 
gardens,  pear-trees,  plum-trees  and  poplars,  intertwined 
with  blackberry-bushes  and  wild-growing  grape-vines,  may 
be  seen  in  those  places.  Nobody  lives  there,  and  in  the 
sand  may  be  noticed  the  tracks  of  deer,  boars,  hares,  and 
pheasants,  who  have  taken  a  liking  to  these  spots. 

From  Cossack  village  to  village  runs  a  road  as  straight 
as  an  arrow,  cut  through  the  woods.  Along  the  road  are 
placed  cordons  in  which  Cossacks  are  located  ;  between  the 
cordons  sentinels  are   stationed  in   watch-towers.     Only 

100 


THE    COSSACKS  101 

a  narrow  strip  of  fertile  woodland,  about  two  thousand 
feet  in  width,  forms  the  possession  of  the  Cossacks. 

To  the  north  of  them  begin  the  sand-dunes  of  the 
Nogay  or  Mozdok  steppe,  which  extends  far  to  the  north 
and  connects,  God  knows  where,  with  the  Trukhm^n, 
the  Astrakhan,  and  the  Kirgiz-Kaysak  steppes.  To  the 
south,  beyond  the  T^rek,  are  the  Great  Chechnya,  the 
Kochkalosov  chain,  the  Black  Mountains,  another  range, 
and  finally  the  snow-capped  mountains,  which  are  just 
visible,  but  which  have  never  been  traversed  by  any  one. 
In  this  fertile,  wooded  strip,  rich  in  vegetation,  has  lived 
since  time  immemorial  a  warlike,  handsome,  and  rich 
Russian  population  of  dissenters,  called  the  Greb^n 
Cossacks. 

Long,  long  ago,  their  ancestors,  the  dissenters,  had  run 
away  from  Russia  and  settled  beyond  the  T^rek,  between 
the  Chechens  on  the  Greb^n,  —  the  first  range  of  wooded 
mountains  of  the  Great  Chechnya.  Living  among  the 
Chechens,  the  Cossacks  have  intermarried  with  them,  and 
have  adopted  the  customs,  manner  of  life,  and  habits  of 
the  mountaineers ;  but  they  have  retained,  in  all  their 
former  purity,  the  Russian  language  and  ancient  faith. 

There  is  still  living  a  tradition  among  these  Cossacks 
which  tells  that  the  Tsar  Ivan  the  Terrible  came  to  the 
T^rek,  called  the  old  men  from  the  Greb^n  into  his  pres- 
ence, gave  them  laud  on  this  side  of  the  river,  advised 
them  to  live  in  peace,  and  promised  them  not  to  disturb 
their  independence,  nor  to  compel  them  to  change  their 
faith. 

Even  now  the  Cossack  families  count  their  relationship 
with  the  Chechens,  and  their  love  of  freedom,  indolence, 
pillage,  and  war  form  the  chief  features  of  their  character. 
The  influence  of  Russia  finds  its  expression  from  its  dis- 
advantageous side  in  the  elections,  the  removal  of  bells, 
and  in  the  army  which  is  stationed  there  or  passes 
through. 


102  THE    COSSACKS 

A  Cossack,  by  his  natural  inclination,  hates  less  a  war- 
rior brave  who  has  killed  his  brother,  than  a  soldier  who 
is  stationed  there  to  defend  his  village,  but  who  has 
smoked  up  his  cabin  with  tobacco.  He  respects  the 
hostile  mountaineer,  but  despises  the  soldier,  who  is  a 
stranger  to  him,  and  an  oppressor.  A  Russian  peasant 
proper  is  to  the  Cossack  a  strange,  wild,  and  contemptible 
creature,  not  different  from  the  Little-Russian  peddlers 
and  immigrants  whom  he  has  seen,  and  whom  he  con- 
temptuously designates  as  "  fullers." 

His  dandyism  consists  in  imitating  the  Chechen  attire. 
He  gets  his  best  ammunition  from  the  mountaineers,  and 
his  best  horses  are  bought  and  stolen  from  them.  A 
young  Cossack  brags  of  his  knowledge  of  the  Tartar 
language,  and  when  he  is  carousing  speaks  in  Tartar  even 
to  his  brother  Cossack.  In  spite  of  this,  these  Christian 
people,  lost  in  a  corner  of  the  earth,  and  surrounded  by 
semi-savage  Mohammedan  tribes  and  by  soldiers,  regard 
themselves  as  highly  civilized,  and  consider  none  but 
Cossacks  to  be  men ;  upon  everybody  else  they  look  with 
contempt. 

A  Cossack  passes  the  greater  part  of  his  life  in  the  cor- 
dons, in  expeditions,  hunting,  or  fishing.  He  hardly  ever 
works  at  home.  His  presence  in  the  village  is  an  excep- 
tion, and  then  he  carouses.  The  Cossacks  all  have  wine 
of  their  own,  and  intoxication  is  not  so  much  a  common 
weakness  of  theirs,  as  a  ceremony,  the  neglect  of  which 
would  be  considered  an  apostasy. 

Upon  woman  a  Cossack  looks  as  an  implement  of  his 
well-being.  A  maiden  is  permitted  to  take  things  easy ; 
but  a  wife  is  compelled  to  work  for  him  from  youth  to 
advanced  old  age ;  he  looks  upon  woman  with  the 
Eastern  conception  of  submissiveness  and  labour.  In 
consequence  of  this  view,  a  woman,  whose  physical  and 
moral  development  is  intensified,  outwardly  submits,  but 
at  the  same  time  has,  as  generally  in  the  East,  an  incom- 


I 


THE    COSSACKS  103 

parably  greater  influence  and  weight  in  her  domestic  life 
than  women  have  in  the  West.  Her  removal  from  pub- 
lic life,  and  her  habit  of  doing  man's  heavy  work,  give  her 
greater  weight  and  power  in  her  domes<"ic  life. 

A  Cossack,  who  considers  it  indecent  to  speak  kindly 
or  leisurely  with  his  wife  in  the  presence  of  strangers, 
involuntarily  feels  her  superiority  when  he  is  left  with 
her  without  witnesses.  The  whole  house,  all  the  prop- 
erty, all  the  farm,  is  acquired  by  her,  and  is  maintained 
by  her  labour  and  care.  Although  he  is  firmly  convinced 
that  work  is  disgraceful  for  a  Cossack,  and  becoming  only 
to  a  Nogay  labourer  and  to  a  woman,  he  feels  vaguely 
that  everything  he  uses  and  calls  his  own  is  the  result  of 
this  labour,  and  that  it  lies  in  the  power  of  woman,  of  his 
motlier  and  his  wife,  whom  he  regards  as  his  slave,  to 
deprive  him  of  everything  which  he  uses. 

Besides  this,  the  continuous  heavy  man's  labour,  and 
the  cares  that  are  put  into  her  hands,  have  given  the 
Greb^n  woman  an  unusually  independent  and  manly 
character,  and  have  developed  to  an  astonishing  degree 
her  physical  strength,  sound  common  sense,  determination, 
and  firmness  of  character.  The  women  are  generally  more 
intelligent,  more  developed  and  beautiful  than  the  men. 
The  beauty  of  a  Greben  woman  is  particularly  striking  by 
its  combination  of  the  purest  type  of  the  Caucasian  face 
with  the  broad  and  powerful  build  of  the  northern 
woman. 

The  Cossack  women  wear  the  Caucasian  garb :  the 
Tartar  shirt,  lialf-coat,  and  foot-gear;  but  they  wrap 
their  heads  with  a  kerchief  in  the  Russian  fashion.  The 
foppishness,  cleanliness,  and  elegance  of  their  attire,  and 
the  arrangement  of  their  cabins,  constitute  a  habit  and 
necessity  of  their  lives.  In  regard  to  men,  the  women, 
and  especially  the  maidens,  enjoy  absolute  freedom. 

The  village  of  Novomlin  has  been  considered  to  be  the 
root  of  the  Greben  Cossacks.     Here,  more  than  elsewhere, 


104  THE   COSSACKS 

the  customs  of  the  old  Greb^ns  have  been  preserved,  and 
the  women  of  this  village  have  ever  been  famous  for  their 
beauty  in  the  whole  Caucasus.  The  Cossacks  gain  a  sub- 
sistence from  their  vineyards  and  fruit-gardens,  from  their 
fields  of  melons  and  pumpkins,  from  fishing  and  hunting, 
from  their  fields  of  maize  and  millet,  and  from  rapine. 

The  village  of  Novomlin  is  three  versts  distant  from 
the  Terek,  from  which  it  is  separated  by  a  dense  forest. 
On  one  side  of  the  road,  which  runs  through  the  village, 
is  the  river;  on  the  other  are  the  green  vineyards  and 
gardens,  and  may  be  seen  the  sand-dunes  of  the  Nogay 
steppe.  The  village  is  surrounded  by  an  earthen  rampart 
and  prickly  hedge.  One  enters  into  and  issues  from  the 
village  through  a  tall  gate,  swinging  on  posts,  with  a  small, 
reed-thatched  roof,  near  which  is  placed,  on  a  wooden  gun- 
carriage,  a  monstrous  cannon  which  has  not  been  fired  for 
a  hundred  years,  and  which  had  been  at  one  time  taken 
from  the  enemy  by  the  Cossacks.  A  Cossack  in  uniform, 
sabre,  and  with  his  gun,  sometimes  stands  sentinel  at  the 
gate,  and  just  as  often  he  is  not  there ;  sometimes  he  pre- 
sents arms  to  a  passing  officer,  and  sometimes  not. 

Under  the  roof  of  the  gate  there  is  a  white  board  with 
the  following  inscription  in  black  letters:  "Houses,  266; 
male  souls,  897  ;  female  souls,  1,012."  The  houses  of  the 
Cossacks  are  all  raised  on  posts,  three  feet  or  more  from 
the  ground,  are  neatly  thatched  with  reeds,  and  have  a 
ridge-piece.  Tliough  they  are  not  all  new,  they  are 
straight,  with  high  porches  of  various  shapes,  and  are  not 
attached  one  to  another,  but  are  freely  and  picturesquely 
scattered  along  broad  streets  and  lanes.  In  front  of  the 
bright,  large  windows  of  many  cabins,  tower  above  them 
dark  green  poplars,  tender,  pale-foliaged  acacias  with  white 
fragrant  flowers,  boldly  shining  sunflowers,  and  twining 
pinks  and  grape-vines. 

On  the  broad  square  are  to  be  seen  three  little  shops 
where  may  be  found  dry  goods,  pumpkin  seeds,  St.  John's 


THE    COSSACKS  105 

bread,  and  cake ;  and  behind  a  high  enclosure,  back  of  a 
row  of  old  poplars,  is  visible,  longer  and  taller  than  the 
rest,  the  house  of  the  commander  of  the  regiment,  with 
double- winged  windows.  During  week-days,  particularly 
in  the  summer,  but  few  people  may  be  seen  in  the  streets 
of  the  village.  The  Cossacks  are  on  service,  in  the  cor- 
dons and  expeditions ;  the  old  men  are  out  hunting,  fish- 
ing, or  helpiDg  the  women  in  the  gardens  and  orchards, 
Only  the  very  old  and  young  remain  at  home. 


I 


V. 

It  was  one  of  those  peculiar  evenings  which  one  finds 
only  in  the  Caucasus.  The  sun  had  set  behind  the  moun- 
tains, but  it  was  still  light.  The  evening  glow  embraced 
one-third  of  the  heaven,  and  the  dull  white  masses  of  the 
mountains  stood  out  sharply  in  the  light  of  the  setting 
sun.  The  air  was  rarefied,  immovable,  and  replete  with 
echoes.  A  shadow,  several  versts  in  length,  fell  from  the 
mountains  upon  the  steppe.  In  the  steppe,  beyond  the 
river,  along  the  roads,  everything  was  quiet. 

Now  and  then  appeared  a  few  men  on  horseback :  those 
were  Cossacks  from  the  cordon,  or  Chechens  from  their 
village,  who  looked  with  surprise  and  curiosity  at  the 
passengers  in  the  vehicle,  and  tried  to  make  out  who 
those  bad  people  could  be.  As  the  evening,  so  the  people, 
in  dread  of  each  other,  clung  to  the  habitations,  and  only 
beasts  and  birds,  not  fearing  man,  freely  roamed  over  this 
wilderness.  From  the  gardens  hastened,  with  merry 
chatter,  before  sundown,  the  Cossack  women  who  had 
been  tying  up  the  wicker  fences.  And  the  gardens  grew 
as  deserted  as  the  surroundings;  but  the  village  became 
particularly  animated. 

On  all  sides  the  people  moved  on  foot,  on  horseback, 
and  in  squeaky  wooden  carts  to  the  village.  The  girls, 
with  shirts  tucked  up,  and  with  stick  in  hand,  were  run- 
ning, prattling  merrily,  to  the  gate,  to  meet  the  cattle 
that  were  crowding  together  in  a  cloud  of  dust  and  gnats 
wliicli  tliey  liad  brought  with  them  from  the  steppe.  The 
M'ell-fed  cows  and  buffaloes  scattered  along  the  streets, 

106 


THE   COSSACKS  107 

ana  the  Cossack  women,  in  their  coloured  half-coats,  were 
mingling  with  them.  One  could  hear  their  shrill  chatter, 
their  merry  laugh,  and  their  screams,  interrupted  by  the 
lowing  of  the  cattle. 

Here,  a  Cossack,  in  accoutrements  and  on  horseback, 
who  had  received  his  leave  from  the  cordon,  rode  up  to  a 
cabin  and,  bending  down,  tapped  at  the  window ;  and,  in 
reply  to  the  tap,  appeared  the  beautiful  head  of  a  young 
Cossack  woman,  and  one  might  hear  tender  words  of  affec- 
tion. There,  a  broad-cheeked,  tattered  Nogay  labourer, 
having  arrived  with  reeds  from  the  steppe,  turned  the 
squeaking  cart  into  the  captain's  clean,  broad  yard,  threw 
down  the  yoke  from  the  oxen,  who  shook  their  heads,  and 
passed  a  few  Tartar  words  with  the  master. 

Near  the  puddle,  which  occupied  nearly  the  whole 
street,  and  where  people  had  been  walking  so  many  years, 
a  barefooted  Cossack  woman,  clinging  close  to  the  fences, 
made  her  way  with  a  bundle  of  firewood  on  her  back, 
raising  her  shirt  high  above  her  white  feet,  A  Cossack, 
returning  from  the  hunt,  cried  out  to  her,  "  Lift  it  higher, 
shameless  one,"  and  aimed  his  gun  at  her.  The  Cossack 
woman  let  her  shirt  fall,  and  dropped  her  wood. 

An  old  Cossack,  with  rolled-up  trousers,  and  gray  bosom 
exposed,  returning  from  his  sport,  carried  on  his  shoulder 
a  basket  with  quivering  silvery  trout ;  to  make  a  short 
cut,  he  climbed  across  his  neighbour's  broken  fence,  and 
pulled  off  his  coat,  which  was  caught  upon  it.  There,  a 
woman  was  dragging  a  dry  bough,  and  the  strokes  of  an 
axe  could  be  heard  around  the  corner.  Young  Cossack 
children  screamed,  spinning  their  tops  wherever  they 
could  find  an  even  spot.  Women  climbed  over  fences,  to 
save  walking  around  corners.  From  all  the  chimneys 
rose  the  smoke  from  dung-chips.  In  every  yard  could  be 
heard  an  increased  bustle,  preceding  the  quiet  of  the  night. 

Mother  Ulitka,  the  wife  of  the  ensign  and  schoolmaster, 
went,  like  the  rest,  to  the  gate  of  her  house,  waiting  for 


108  THE    COSSACKS 

the  cattle  which  her  daughter  Maryanka  was  driving  in 
the  street.  She  had  barely  opened  the  gate,  when  a  large 
buffalo-cow,  pursued  by  gnats,  rushed  bellowing  into  the 
yard;  after  her  slowly  came  the  well-fed  cows, recognizing 
their  mistress  with  their  large  eyes,  and  evenly  switching 
their  sides  with  their  tails. 

Stately  and  beautiful  Maryanka  walked  through  the 
gate  and,  tlirowing  down  the  stick,  fastened  the  gate,  and 
ran  nimbly  to  scatter  the  cattle,  and  drive  them  to  their 
stalls. 

"Take  off  your  shoes,  devil's  daughter,"  cried  her 
mother,     "  You  have  muddied  your  shoes." 

Maryanka  was  not  in  the  least  insulted  by  being  called 
a  devil's  daughter,  but  accepted  these  words  as  an  expres- 
sion of  affection,  and  continued  at  her  work.  Maryanka's 
face  was  covered  with  a  kerchief;  she  wore  a  rose-col- 
oured shirt  and  a  green  half-coat.  She  disappeared  under 
the  penthouse,  behind  the  large,  fat  cattle,  and  from  the 
stall  was  heard  her  voice,  gently  admonishing  the  buffalo- 
cow,  "  Why  don't  you  stand  ?  Come  now  !  Oh,  there, 
motherkin !  —  " 

After  awhile  the  girl  and  her  mother  came  out  of  the 
stable,  and  walked  to  the  dairy,  carrying  two  large  pots 
of  mdk,  —  the  day's  milking.  From  the  clay  chimney  of 
the  dairy  soon  rose  dung  smoke,  and  the  milk  was  changed 
into  boiled  cream.  The  girl  attended  to  the  fire,  and  the 
old  vroman  came  out  to  the  gate. 

Darkness  fell  over  the  whole  village.  In  the  air  was 
borne  the  odour  of  vegetables,  of  the  cattle,  and  of  the 
fragrant  dung  smoke.  At  the  gates  and  in  the  streets  ran 
Cossack  women,  carrying  burning  rags  in  their  hands.  In 
the  yards  could  be  heard  the  gasping  and  quiet  chewing 
of  the  cattle  stretching  themselves,  and  the  voices  of 
women  and  children  calling  in  the  courtyards  and  streets. 
Oil  week-days  a  man's  drunken  voice  is  but  rarely  heard. 

An  old,  tall,  masculine  Cossack,  woman,  from  the  house 


THE    COSSACKS  109 

opposite,  walked  up  to  Mother  Ulitka  to  ask  her  for  fire ; 
she  held  a  rag  in  her  hand. 

"  Well,  mother,  are  you  all  done  ? "  she  said  to  her. 

"  The  girl  is  making  a  fire  in  the  stove.  Do  you  need 
some  light  ? "  said  Mother  Ulitka,  proud  of  being  able  to 
do  her  a  favour. 

The  two  women  went  into  the  cabin.  The  coarse 
hands,  unaccustomed  to  small  objects,  trembled  as  she 
tore  off  the  lid  from  the  precious  box  of  matches  which 
are  a  rarity  in  the  Caucasus.  The  masculine-looking  vis- 
itor sat  down  on  the  threshold,  with  the  evident  intention 
of  chatting. 

"  Well,  motherkin,  is  your  husband  in  the  school  ? " 
the  visitor  asked. 

"  He  is  all  the  time  teaching  the  children,  mother.  He 
wrote  he  would  be  back  for  the  hohdays,"  said  the  en- 
sign's wife. 

"  He  is  a  clever  man  ;  and  cleverness  pays." 

"  Of  course,  it  does." 

"  But  my  Lukashka  is  in  the  cordon,  and  he  can't  get 
any  leave  to  come  home,"  said  the  visitor,  although  the 
ensign's  wife  kuew  all  that.  She  could  not  refrain  from 
mentioning  her  Lukashka,  whom  she  had  but  lately 
allowed  to  become  a  Cossack,  and  whom  she  was  desirous 
of  marrying  off  to  Maryanka,  the  ensign's  daughter. 

"  So  he  is  in  the  cordon  ?  " 

"  Yes,  mother.  He  has  not  been  here  since  the  holi- 
days. A  few  days  ago  I  sent  him  some  shirts  by 
Fomiishkin.  He  says  everything  is  well,  and  the  au- 
thorities are  satisfied  with  him.  They  are  looking  for 
abr^ks,  says  he.  Lukashka,  he  says,  is  happy,  and  every- 
thing is  all  right." 

"  The  Lord  be  thanked,"  said  the  ensign's  wife.  "  In 
one  word  he  is  a  '  saver.'  " 

Lukashka  was  called  the  "  Saver "  for  the  bravery 
which  he  had  displayed  in  "  saving  "  a  boy  from  drown- 


110  THE    COSSACKS 

ing.  The  ensign's  wife  mentioned  this  name,  in  order  to 
say  something  agreeable  to  Lukashka's  mother. 

"  I  thank  God,  mother,  he  is  a  good  son.  He  is  a  fine 
lad,  everybody  speaks  well  of  him,"  said  Lukashka's 
mother,  "  only  I  should  hke  to  see  him  married,  and  then 
I  could  die  in  peace." 

"  Well,  are  there  not  enough  girls  in  the  village  ? " 
replied  the  sly  ensign's  wife,  carefully  putting  the  lid  on 
the  match-box  with  her  crooked  fingers. 

"  Plenty,  mother,  plenty,"  remarked  Lukashka's  mother, 
shaking  her  head,  "  but  your  girl,  Maryanka,  your  girl,  I 
say,  is  one  the  like  of  whom  you  will  not  find  in  the  Cos- 
sack settlements." 

The  ensign's  wife  knew  the  intention  of  Lukashka's 
mother ;  but,  although  Lukashka  seemed  to  her  to  be  a 
good  Cossack,  she  wanted  to  ward  off  the  subject,  —  in 
the  first  place  because  she  was  the  ensign's  wife,  and  a 
rich  woman,  while  Lukashka  was  the  son  of  a  Cossack  of 
the  rank  and  file,  and  poor ;  in  the  second  place,  because 
she  did  not  wish  to  lose  her  daughter  so  soon ;  but 
chiefly,  because  propriety  demanded  it. 

"  Well,  when  Maryanka  grows  up  she  will  be  a  nice 
girl,"  she  said,  discreetly  and  modestly. 

"  I  will  send  the  go-betweens,  I  will.  Just  let  us  get 
the  gardens  in  shape,  and  then  we  will  come  to  ask  your 
favour,"  said  Lukashka's  mother.  "  We  will  come  to  ask 
Ilya  Vasilevich's  favour." 

"  What  has  Ilya  to  do  with  it  ? "  the  ensign's  wife  said, 
proudly.  "  I  am  the  person  to  be  asked.  There  is  a  time 
for  everything." 

Lukdshka's  mother  saw  by  the  stern  face  of  the  ensign's 
wife  that  it  was  improper  to  continue  the  subject.  She 
lighted  the  rag  with  a  match  and,  rising,  said  :  "  Do  not 
forget,  mother,  hut  remember  these  words.  I  must  go 
and  start  a  fire,"  she  added. 

As  she  crossed  the  street  and  waved  the  lighted  rag  in 


THE    COSSACKS  111 

her  outstretched  hand,  she  met  Maryanka,  who  bowed  to 
her. 

"  She  is  a  queen  of  a  girl,  and  a  fine  worker,"  she 
thought,  as  she  looked  at  the  fair  maiden.  "  She  has 
done  growing !  It  is  time  for  her  to  get  married  into 
some  good  family,  —  yes,  she  ought  to  marry  Lukashka." 

Mother  Ulitka  had  cares  of  her  own ;  she  remained  sit- 
ting on  the  threshold,  and  was  lost  in  thought,  until  her 
daughter  called  her. 


VI. 

The  male  population  of  the  village  pass  their  time  in 
expeditions  and  in  cordons,  or  posts,  as  the  Cossacks  call 
them. 

This  very  Lukashka  the  "  Saver,"  of  whom  the  two  old 
women  had  been  speaking,  was  stationed  that  evening  in 
a  watch-tower  of  the  Nizhne-Protok  post.  This  Mzhne- 
Protok  post  is  situated  on  the  bank  of  the  T^rek.  Lean- 
ing on  the  balustrade  of  the  tower,  he  bhnked  and  looked 
into  the  distance  beyond  the  Terek,  or  upon  his  Cossack 
companions  below  him,  and  from  time  to  time  he  chatted 
with  them. 

The  sun  was  already  approaching  the  snow-covered 
range  which  glistened  white  above  the  fleecy  clouds.  The 
clouds  were  billowing  at  the  bases  of  the  mountains,  and 
assumed  ever  darker  shades.  The  air  was  bathed  in  even- 
ing transparency.  A  fresh  breeze  blew  from  the  wild 
overgrown  forest ;  but  near  the  post  it  was  still  warm. 

The  voices  of  the  Cossacks  at  conversation  rang  clearer, 
and  reechoed  in  the  air.  The  swift,  cinnamon-coloured 
T^rek  stood  out,  with  all  its  moving  mass,  more  sharply 
from  its  immovable  banks.  It  was  beginning  to  fall,  and 
here  and  there  the  wet  sand  looked  dark  brown  on  the 
shore  and  in  the  shallows. 

Ou  the  opposite  shore,  right  across  from  the  cordon, 
there  was  nothing  but  a  wilderness :  only  low  desert  reeds 
stretched  over  a  vast  expanse  as  far  as  the  mountains.  A 
little  on  one  side,  the  clay  houses,  flat  roofs,  and  funnel- 
shaped  chimneys  of  a  Chechen  village  could  be  seen  on 

112 


THE    COSSACKS  113 

the  low  bank.  The  keen  eyes  of  the  Cossack  who  stood 
on  the  tower  watched,  thiough  the  evening  smoke  of  the 
peaceful  village,  the  flitting  figures  of  the  Chechen  women 
who  moved  in  the  distance,  in  their  blue  and  red  dresses. 

Although  the  Cossacks  expected  that  the  abr^ks  would 
cross  over  from  the  Tartar  side  and  attack  them  at  any 
time,  but  especially  m  May,  when  the  forest  along  the 
T^rek  is  so  dense  that  a  man  on  foot  can  hardly  make  his 
way  through  it,  and  when  the  river  is  so  shallow  that  it 
can  be  forded  on  foot  in  some  places ;  and  although  two 
days  before  a  Cossack  had  galloped  up  from  the  com- 
mander of  the  regiment  with  a  circular  letter  in  which  it 
said  that,  according  to  the  information  given  by  spies,  a 
party  of  eight  men  intended  to  cross  the  T^rek,  and  that, 
therefore,  especial  precautions  were  to  be  observed,  —  no 
special  precautions  were  taken  in  the  cordon.  The  Cos- 
sacks acted  as  though  they  were  at  home,  and  they  walked 
about  without  their  guns,  and  their  horses  were  not  sad- 
dled ;  some  were  engaged  in  fishing,  some  in  carousing, 
and  others  in  hunting.  Only  the  horse  of  the  officer  of 
the  day  was  saddled,  and  walked  with  three  feet  hobbled 
on  the  greensward  along  the  forest,  and  only  the  Cossack 
on  guard  wore  his  mantle,  musket,  and  sabre. 

The  under-officer,  a  tall,  haggard  Cossack,  with  an 
unusually  long  back  and  short  legs  and  arms,  in  nothing 
but  an  unbuttoned  half-coat,  was  sitting  on  the  mound  of 
the  hut,  and,  with  an  expression  of  official  laziness  and 
ennui,  closed  his  eyes,  and  rolled  his  head  from  one  hand 
to  the  other.  An  old  Cossack,  with  a  broad,  black  beard, 
streaked  with  gray,  in  nothing  but  his  shirt  girded  with  a 
black  strap,  was  lying  near  the  water,  and  lazily  watching 
the  monotonously  roaring  water  of  the  meandering  T^rek. 
The  others,  wlio  were  also  tormented  by  the  heat,  were 
half -dressed :  one  was  washing  his  Hnen  in  the  T^rek ; 
another  was  plaiting  a  fishing-line ;  another  was  lying  on 
the  ground,  in  the  hot  sand  of  the  bank,  and  mumbling  a 


114  THE    COSSACKS 

song.  One  Cossack,  with  a  haggard  and  swarthy  face, 
lay,  apparently  dead  drunk,  on  his  belly  near  one  of  the 
walls  of  the  hut,  which  some  two  hours  before  had  been 
in  the  shade,  but  upon  which  now  fell  the  burning  slant- 
ing rays. 

Lukashka,  who  was  stationed  in  the  watch-tower,  was 
a  handsome  fellow,  about  twenty  years  of  age,  and  very 
much  like  his  mother.  His  face  and  his  whole  figure 
expressed,  in  spite  of  the  angularity  of  youth,  great  phys- 
ical and  moral  strength.  Although  he  had  but  lately  been 
taken  into  the  array,  one  could  see  from  the  broad  features 
of  his  face  and  from  the  calm  self-confidence  of  his  attitude 
that  he  had  already  succeeded  in  acquiring  that  martial 
and  somewhat  proud  bearing,  which  is  characteristic  of 
the  Cossacks  and  of  people  in  general,  who  are  continually 
in  arms,  —  that  he  was  a  Cossack,  and  that  he  knew  his 
full  value.  His  broad  mantle  was  torn  in  places ;  his  cap 
was  poised  jauntily  in  Chechen  fashion ;  his  leggings  fell 
below  his  knees.  His  attire  was  not  rich,  but  it  fitted 
him  with  that  Cossack  foppishness  which  consists  in  the 
imitation  of  the  Chechen  braves. 

In  a  real  brave  everything  hangs  loosely  and  carelessly 
in  tatters ;  only  the  weapons  are  of  the  richest.  But  this 
ragged  attire  and  the  weapons  are  put  on,  girded,  and 
adjusted  in  a  certain  fashion,  which  not  everybody  can 
acquire,  and  which  immediately  catches  the  eye  of  a 
Cossack  or  mountaineer.  Lukashka  had  this  appearance 
of  a  Chechen  brave.  Placing  his  hands  under  his  sabre, 
and  blinking  with  his  eyes,  he  kept  looking  at  the  dis- 
tant village.  The  separate  features  of  his  face  were  not 
handsome ;  but  upon  surveying  at  once  his  stately  form., 
and  his  black-browed  and  intelligent  face,  everybody  would 
involuntarily  say,  "  He  is  a  fine  chap ! " 

"  What  a  lot  of  women  that  village  is  pouring  out ! "  he 
said,  in  a  sharp  voice,  lazily  opening  his  shining  white 
teeth,  and  speaking  to  nobody  in  particular. 


THE    COSSACKS  115 

Nazarka,  who  was  lying  below,  immediately  raised  his 
head  and  said : 

"  They  must  be  going  for  water." 

"  I  ought  to  fire  a  shot  to  frighten  them,"  said  Lukashka, 
laughing.     "  How  they  would  squirm ! " 

"  You  can't  shoot  so  far ! " 

"  Indeed  ?  Mine  will  shoot  beyond  them.  Just  give  me 
a  chance !  When  their  holiday  comes,  I  will  visit  Gir^y- 
khan,  and  will  drink  their  millet  beer,"  said  Lukashka, 
angrily  warding  off  the  gnats  that  pestered  him. 

A  rustling  in  the  forest  attracted  the  attention  of  the 
Cossacks.  A  spotted  mongrel  pointer,  scentiug  a  trail, 
and  excitedly  wagging  his  hairless  tail,  ran  up  to  the 
cordon.  Lukashka  recognized  the  hunting-dog  of  his 
neighbour.  Uncle  Eroshka,  and  soon  after  he  made  out  in 
the  thicket  the  moving  form  of  the  hunter  himself. 

Uncle  Eroshka  was  a  Cossack  of  enormous  stature,  with 
a  broad,  snow-white  beard,  and  such  broad  shoulders  and 
chest  that  in  the  forest,  where  there  was  nobody  with 
whom  he  could  be  compared,  he  appeared,  on  account  of 
the  excellent  proportion  of  all  his  strong  limbs,  rather 
undersized.  He  wore  a  ragged,  tucked-up  coat,  buckskin 
shoes  tied  with  twine  to  his  rag  socks,  and  a  rumpled 
white  cap.  On  his  back  lie  carried,  over  one  shoulder,  a 
snare  for  pheasants,  and  a  bag  with  a  chicken  and  a  falcon 
for  alluring  hawks ;  over  the  other  shoulder  he  carried  a 
dead  wildcat  attached  to  a  leather  strap ;  he  also  carried 
on  his  back,  stuck  behind  his  belt,  a  pouch  with  bullets, 
powder,  and  bread,  a  horsetail  with  which  to  switch  off 
the  gnats,  a  large  dagger  in  a  torn,  blood-stained  sheath, 
and  a  brace  of  dead  pheasants.  When  he  saw  the  cordon 
he  stopped. 

"  0  Lyam ! "  he  shouted  to  his  dog  in  such  a  sonorous 
bass  that  the  echo  was  repeated  far  in  the  woods;  he 
shifted  on  his  shoulder  the  huge  percussion-gun,  which 
the  Cossacks  call  "  flinta,"  and  raised  his  cap. 


116  THE    COSSACKS 

'•  A  good  day  to  you,  good  people !  Oh,  there ! "  he 
turned  to  the  Cossacks,  in  the  same  powerful  and  joyful 
voice ;  he  spoke  without  effort,  and  yet  as  loud  as  if  he 
were  talking  to  some  one  across  the  river. 

"  A  good  day  to  you,  uncle ! "  merrily  sounded  the 
youthful  voices  of  the  Cossacks,  from  all  sides. 

"  Well,  have  you  seen  anything  ?  Do  tell  me ! "  cried 
Uncle  Eroshka,  wiping  the  sweat  from  his  broad,  red  face 
with  the  sleeve  of  his  mantle. 

"  Listen,  uncle  ?  There  is  some  hawk  living  here  in 
the  plane-tree !  Every  evening  he  goes  circling  in  the 
air,"  said  Nazarka,  blinking  with  his  eye,  and  twitchiug 
his  shoulder  and  leg. 

"  You  don't  say  ? "  the  old  man  said,  incredulously. 

"  Truly,  uncle,  you  watch  awhile,"  insisted  Nazarka, 
laughing. 

The  Cossacks  all  laughed. 

The  jester  had  not  seen  any  hawk;  but  it  had  long 
become  a  habit  with  the  young  Cossacks  of  the  cordon  to 
tease  and  deceive  Uncle  Eroshka  every  time  he  came  near 
them. 

"  Oh,  you  fool,  talking  rubbish  ! "  said  Lukashka  from 
the  watch-tower  to  Nazarka. 

Nazarka  at  once  grew  silent. 

"  I  must  watch,  and  I  will,"  said  the  old  man,  to  the 
great  amusement  of  the  Cossacks.  "  Have  you  seen  any 
boars  ? " 

"  The  idea !  Watching  boars  ! "  said  tlie  under-officer, 
glad  to  have  an  opportunity  to  divert  himself,  rolling 
over,  and  scratching  his  long  back  with  both  his  hands. 
"  We  have  to  catch  abreks  here,  and  not  boars.  Uncle, 
haven't  you  heard  anything,  eh?"  he  added,  blinking 
without  cause,  and  opening  his  even  row  of  white  teeth. 

"  Abreks  ? "  said  the  old  man.  "  No,  I  have  not. 
Well,  have  you  any  red  wine  ?  Let  me  have  a  drink, 
good  man !     I  am  tired,  really,  I  am.     Just  give  me  a 


THE    COSSACKS  117 

chance,  and  I  will  bring  you  some  venison,  really,  I  will. 
Now,  let  me  have  it,"  he  added. 

"  Are  you  going  to  watch  all  night  ? "  the  under-officer 
asked,  as  if  not  hearing  what  he  had  said. 

"I  want  to  stay  up  a  night,"  said  Uncle  Erdshka. 
"Maybe  God  will  grant  me  to  kill  something  by  the 
holidays,  and  then  I  will  give  you  some,  really,  I  will ! " 

"Uncle!  Ho,  there,  uncle!"  shouted  Lukashka  from 
above,  so  loudly  that  all  the  Cossacks  looked  up  to  him. 
"  You  go  up  to  the  upper  arm  of  the  river,  there  is  a  fine 
herd  there.  I  am  not  lying.  Bang !  The  other  day  one 
of  us  Cossacks  killed  one  there.  I  am  telling  the  truth," 
he  added,  adjusting  the  musket  on  his  back,  in  a  voice 
which  left  no  doubt  that  he  was  not  jesting. 

"  Oh,  Lukashka  the  '  Saver '  is  here ! "  said  the  old 
man,  looking  up.     "  Where  did  he  shoot  ? " 

"  You  did  not  see  me  !  I  must  be  very  small !  "  said 
Lukashka.  "Near  the  very  ditch,  uncle,"  he  added, 
earnestly,  shaking  his  head.  "We  were  walking  along 
the  ditch,  when  there  was  a  crackling  noise,  but  my  gun 
was  in  its  case.  Uya  banged  away.  Uncle,  1  will  show 
you  the  place ;  it  is  not  far  from  here.  Just  give  me  a 
chance.  I  know  all  the  paths.  Uncle  Mosev ! "  he 
added  to  the  under-officer,  with  determination  and  almost 
commandingly.  "  It  is  time  to  relieve  the  guard  ! "  and, 
picking  up  his  gun,  he  began  to  come  down  from  the 
tower,  without  waiting  for  the  order. 

"Come  down!"  said  the  under-officer,  after  awhile, 
looking  around  him.  "  It  is  your  watch,  isn't  it,  Giirka  ? 
Go !  Your  Lukashka  is  getting  to  be  clever,"  added  the 
under-officer,  turning  to  the  old  man.  "  He  goes  a-hunt- 
ing  like  you,  and  can't  stay  at  home ;  the  other  day  he 
killed  one ! " 


vn. 

The  sun  had  disappeared,  and  the  shadows  of  the 
night  rapidly  advanced  from  the  forest.  The  Cossacks 
had  finished  their  occupations  at  the  cordon,  and  were 
getting  ready  to  go  to  the  hut  for  supper.  Only  the  old 
man,  in  expectation  of  the  hawk,  remained  under  the 
plane-tree,  pulling  at  the  cord  by  which  the  falcon  was 
tied.  The  hawk  sat  on  a  tree,  but  did  not  descend  upon 
the  chicken. 

Lukashka  leisurely  placed  in  the  pheasant  track,  in  the 
blackthorn  grove,  nooses  with  which  to  catch  the  pheas- 
ants, and  sang  one  song  after  another.  In  spite  of  his 
tall  stature  and  big  hands,  every  kind  of  work,  large  and 
small,  was,  it  appeared,  equally  successful  in  Lukashka's 
hands. 

"  0  Luka  !  "  he  heard  Nazarka's  shrill  voice  from  near  by 
in  the  grove.     "  The  Cossacks  have  gone  to  their  supper." 

Nazarka  was  making  his  way  through  the  blackthorn, 
with  a  pheasant  under  his  arm,  and  finally  crawled  out  on 
the  foot-path. 

"  Oh  ! "  said  Lukashka,  growing  silent  for  a  moment. 
"  Where  did  you  get  that  cock  ?     It  must  be  my  snare." 

Nazarka  was  of  the  same  age  as  Lukashka,  and  had 
entered  the  army,  like  him,  in  the  spring. 

He  was  a  short,  homely,  lean,  sickly  man,  with  a 
squeaky  voice  that  grated  upon  the  ears.  He  was 
a  neighbour  and  friend  of  Lukashka.  Lukashka  was 
sitting  in  Tartar  fashion  on  the  gi'ass,  and  fixing  the 
nooses. 

118 


THE    COSSACKS  119 

"  I  do  not  know  whose,  but  very  likely  yours." 

"  Was  it  beyond  the  hole  near  the  plane-tree  ?  That  is 
mine,  I  placed  it  there  yesterday." 

Lukashka  got  up,  and  looked  at  the  pheasant.  He 
patted  his  dark  blue  head,  which  the  cock  stretched  for- 
ward in  fright,  rolling  his  eyes,  and  took  him  into  his 
hands. 

"  We  shall  prepare  a  pilau  to-day.  Go  and  kill  liim, 
and  pick  his  feathers  ! " 

"  Shall  we  eat  it  alone,  or  shall  we  give  it  to  the  under- 
officer?" 

"  He  has  had  enough," 

"  I  am  afraid  to  kill  them,"  said  Nazarka. 

"  Let  me  have  him !  " 

Lukashka  took  out  his  knife  from  beneath  his  dagger, 
and  drew  it  rapidly  across  the  bird's  neck.  The  bird 
fluttered,  but  before  he  had  time  to  open  his  wings  his 
bloody  head  was  bent  back  and  hung  down. 

"  This  is  the  way  it  is  done,"  said  Lukashka,  throwing 
down  the  cock.     "  It  will  be  a  fat  pilau." 

Nazarka  shuddered,  looking  at  the  bird. 

"  Listen,  Luka,  the  devil  will  send  us  again  into  the 
*  secret,' "  he  added,  as  he  raised  the  pheasant,  meaning 
the  under-officer  by  the  word  "  devil."  "  He  has  sent 
Fomushkin  for  some  red  wine,  it  was  his  turn.  Every 
night  we  go  out,  the  enemy  comes  out  against  us." 

Lukashka  walked,  whistliug,  along  the  cordon. 

"  Pick  up  the  twine !  "  he  shouted. 

Nazarka  obeyed  him. 

"  I  wall  tell  him  to-day,  really  I  will,"  continued  Nazarka. 
"  We  will  say  we  won't  go,  because  we  are  tired,  and  that 
is  the  end  of  it.  You  tell  him  that ;  he  will  Hsten  to  you. 
Wliat  sense  is  there  in  going  ? " 

"  Now  this  is  not  worth  talking  about ! "  said  Lukashka, 
evidently  thinking  of  something  else.  "  Nonsense  !  It 
would  be  insulting  if  he  drove  us  out  of  the  village  for 


120  THE   COSSACKS 

the  niglit.  For  tliere  you  can  have  a  good  time,  but 
here  ?  Whether  in  the  cordon,  or  in  the  '  secret,'  is  one 
and  the  same,     lieally  ! " 

"  And  will  you  come  down  to  the  village  ? " 

"  I  will,  on  the  holiday." 

"  Giirka  said  that  your  Dunayka  is  keeping  company 
with  Fomushkin,"  suddenly  said  Nazarka. 

"  The  devil  take  her ! "  answered  Lukashka,  grinning 
with  his  even  white  teeth,  but  not  laughing.  "  Can't  I 
find  another  ? " 

"  Giirka  said  like  this :  he  went  to  see  her,  says  he,  and 
her  husband  was  not  there.  Fomushkin  was  there,  eating 
a  pie.  He  stayed  awhile,  and  went  away ;  under  the 
window  he  heard  her  say,  '  The  devil  is  gone ;  why, 
darling,  do  you  not  eat  the  pie  ?  And,'  says  she, '  don't  go 
home  to  sleep  I '  And  he  said  under  the  window, '  That  is 
fine ! ' " 

"  You  are  lying ! " 

"  Really,  upon  my  word  ! " 

Lukashka  was  silent. 

"  Well,  if  she  has  found  another,  the  deuce  take  her. 
There  are  lots  of  girls.     I  am  tired  of  her,  anyway." 

"  What  a  devil  you  are ! "  said  Nazarka.  "  You  had 
better  try  to  get  into  the  graces  of  Maryanka,  the  ensign's. 
She  is  not  keeping  company  with  anybody  ? " 

Lukashka  frowned.  "  Maryanka  !  It  is  all  the  same  ! " 
he  said. 

"  Well,  you  tackle  her  —  " 

"  What  do  you  think  ?  Are  there  not  enough  of  them 
in  the  village  ? " 

And  Lukashka  again  whistled,  and  walked  along  the 
cordon,  tearing  off  leaves  and  branches.  As  he  walked 
between  some  bushes,  he  suddenly  noticed  a  smooth 
withe ;  he  stopped,  took  out  his  knife  from  under  his 
dagger,  and  cut  it  off.  "  It  will  make  a  fine  ramrod," 
he  said,  swishing  the  withe  in  the  air. 


THE    COSSACKS  121 

The  Cossacks  were  at  their  supper  in  the  clay  vestibule 
of  the  cordon ;  they  were  seated  on  the  floor,  around  a 
low  Tartar  table,  and  conversing  about  whose  turn  it 
would  be  to  go  to  the  "  secret." 

"  Who  goes  to-day  ? "  cried  one  of  the  Cossacks,  turn- 
ing to  the  under-otEcer  through  the  open  door  of  the 
hut. 

"  Who  will  go  ?  "  replied  the  under-officer.  "  Uncle 
Burlak  has  been  there,  Fomushkin  has  been,"  he  said, 
with  some  indecision.  "  You  go,  eh  ?  You  and  Nazarka," 
he  turned  to  Lukashka,  "  and  Ergushdv  will  go,  if  he  has 
had  his  sleep." 

"  You  never  have  your  sleep,  how  should  he  ? "  said 
Nazarka,  half-loud. 

The  Cossacks  laughed. 

Ergushov  was  the  very  Cossack  who  was  drunk,  and 
had  been  asleep  near  the  hut.  He  had  just  waked  and, 
rubbing  his  eyes,  waddled  into  the  vestibule. 

Lukashka  rose,  and  got  his  gun  in  shape. 

"  Be  quick  about  it ;  have  your  supper,  and  go ! "  said 
the  under-officer.  Without  waiting  for  an  expression 
of  consent,  the  under-officer  closed  the  door,  evidently 
having  httle  hope  that  the  Cossacks  would  obey  him. 
"  If  I  were  not  commanded,  I  would  not  send  you ; 
but  the  captain  might  run  into  us,  before  we  know 
it.  And  besides,  they  say  eight  abr^ks  have  crossed 
over." 

"  Well,  we  must  go,"  said  Ergushov,  "  it's  the  order ! 
You  can't  do  otherwise,  —  times  are  such.  I  say,  we 
must  go." 

Lukashka,  in  the  meantime,  held  with  both  hands  a 
big  piece  of  the  pheasant  before  his  mouth,  and,  looking 
now  at  the  under-officer,  and  now  at  Nazarka,  was  appar- 
ently quite  indifferent  to  what  was  going  on  around  him, 
and  laughed  at  both  of  them.  The  Cossacks  had  not  yet 
gone  away  to  the  "  secret "  when  Uncle  Erdshka,  who 


122  THE    COSSACKS 

had  sat   up   until  night  under   the  plane-tree,  without 
accomplishing  anything,  entered  into  the  dark  vestibule. 

"  Well,  boys,"  boomed  his  bass,  in  the  low  vestibule, 
"  1  will  go  with  you,  —  you  will  lie  in  ambush  for 
Chechens,  and  I  for  boars." 


VIII. 

It  was  quite  dark  when  Uncle  Erdshka  and  the  three 
Cossacks  of  the  cordon,  in  felt  mantles,  and  with  their 
guns  over  their  shoulders,  walked  down  the  Terek  to  the 
place  which  had  been  designated  as  the  ambush.  Nazarka 
did  not  want  to  go  at  all ;  but  Lukashka  shouted  to  him, 
and  they  got  quickly  ready.  After  having  walked  a  few 
steps  in  silence,  the  Cossacks  turned  away  from  the  ditch, 
and  over  an  almost  imperceptible  foot-path  through  the 
reeds  walked  up  to  the  Terek.  Near  the  bank  lay  a 
thick  black  log,  cast  out  by  the  river,  and  the  reeds 
around  the  log  looked  freshly  crushed. 

"  Shall  we  '  sit '  here  ? "  said  Nazarka. 

"Why  not?"  said  Lukashka.  "Sit  down  here;  I  will 
be  back  in  a  minute,  as  soon  as  I  have  shown  the  place 
to  uncle." 

"  This  is  a  very  fine  place.  We  can't  be  seen,  but  we 
can  see  everything,"  said  Ergushov,  "  We  had  better  sit 
here ;  it  is  a  first-class  place." 

Nazarka  and  Ergushov  spread  out  their  mantles  behind 
the  log,  and  Lukashka  went  away  a  distance  with  Uncle 
Erdshka. 

"  Not  far  from  here,  uncle,"  said  Lukashka,  stepping 
cautiously  in  front  of  the  old  man,  "  I  will  show  you 
where  they  passed.  I,  my  friend,  am  the  only  one  who 
knows." 

"  Show  me !  You  are  a  good  fellow,"  answered  the  old 
man,  also  in  a  whisper. 

123 


124  THE    COSSACKS 

Having  taken  a  few  steps,  Lukashka  stopped,  bent  over 
a  puddle,  and  whistled.  "  Here  they  came  to  drink,  you 
see,"  he  said,  just  audibly,  pointing  to  a  fresh  track. 

"  The  Lord  preserve  you,"  answered  the  old  man. 
"  The  boar  must  be  in  the  wallow  beyond  the  ditch,"  he 
added.     "  I  will  sit  here,  and  you  go." 

Lukashka  shifted  his  mantle,  and  went  by  himself 
back  along  the  bank,  casting  rapid  glances,  now  on  the 
left  to  the  wall  of  reeds,  now  on  the  T^rek,  which  foamed 
below  the  bank.  "He  is  himself  watching,  or. creeping 
along  somewhere,"  he  thought  about  the  Chechens. 
Suddenly  a  loud  rustling  and  splashing  in  the  water  made 
him  shudder  and  grasp  his  musket.  Upon  the  shore 
leaped,  breathing  heavily,  a  boar,  and  the  black  form, 
which  for  a  moment  stood  out  from  the  shining  surface 
of  the  water,  disappeared  in  the  reeds.  Luka  quickly 
took  his  gun  and  aimed,  but  before  he  had  a  chance  to 
shoot,  the  boar  was  lost  in  the  thicket.  He  spit  out 
in  anger,  and  walked  on.  When  he  came  to  the  place 
of  ambush,  he  again  stopped,  and  whistled  lightly.  He 
received  an  answer,  and  walked  up  to  his  companions. 

Nazarka  was  rolled  up  in  his  mantle,  and  asleep. 
Ergushov  was  sitting  with  his  legs  crossed  under  him ; 
he  moved  a  little,  so  as  to  make  place  for  Lukashka. 

"  How  jolly  it  is  to  '  sit ' !  Really,  it  is  a  fine  place," 
he  said.     "  Have  you  settled  him  ? " 

"  I  have  shown  him  the  place,"  replied  Lukashka, 
spreading  his  mantle.  "  I  just  scared  up  a  strapping  boar 
near  the  water.  It  must  be  the  same  one.  Did  you 
hear  the  noise  he  made  ? " 

"  I  did  hear  the  noise,  and  I  knew  at  once  it  must  be 
an  animal.  I  thought  you  had  scared  up  the  beast,"  said 
Ergushov,  wrapping  himself  in  his  mantle.  "  I  will  now 
take  a  nap,"  he  added.  "  Wake  me  after  cockcrow ; 
because,  that's  the  order.  First  I'll  take  a  nap,  and  then 
you,  and  I  will  sit  up.     That's  right." 


THE    COSSACKS  125 

"Thank  you,  I  do  not  care  to  sleep,"  answered 
Lukashka. 

The  night  was  dark,  warm,  and  calm.  The  stars  were 
shining  only  on  one  side  of  the  horizon  ;  the  other,  greater 
part  of  the  sky,  on  the  side  of  the  mountains,  was  shrouded 
by  one  large  cloud.  Tliis  black  cloud,  uniting  with  the 
mountains,  was  not  agitated  by  the  wind,  but  moved 
slowly  farther  and  farther,  its  curving  edges  standing  out 
sharply  in  the  deep,  starry  heaven. 

Only  in  front  of  him  the  Cossack  could  see  the  T^rek 
and  the  dim  distance ;  behind  him  and  on  both  sides  he 
was  surrounded  by  a  wall  of  reeds.  From  time  to  time 
the  -reeds  began  to  wave  and  rustle  against  each  other, 
without  any  apparent  cause.  Below,  the  waving  cattails 
looked  like  bushy  branches  of  trees  against  the  bright 
edge  of  the  sky.  In  front  of  him,  at  his  very  feet,  was 
the  bank,  below  which  the  river  was  roaring. 

Farther  away  the  gleaming  mass  of  moving  cinnamon- 
coloured  water  monotonously  rippled  near  the  shoals  and 
along  the  bank.  Still  farther,  the  water,  and  bank,  and 
cloud,  all  blended  into  impenetrable  darkness. 

On  the  surface  of  the  water  were  long-drawn  shadows, 
which  the  experienced  eye  of  the  Cossack  recognized  as 
tree-trunks  carried  down  by  the  current.  Now  and  then 
the  sheet-lightning,  reflecting  in  the  water,  as  in  a  dark 
mirror,  indicated  the  line  of  the  opposite  dechvitous 
bank. 

The  even  sounds  of  the  night,  the  rustling  of  the  reeds, 
the  snoring  of  the  Cossacks,  the  buzzing  of  the  gnats,  and 
the  roaring  of  the  water  were  occasionally  interrupted  by 
a  distant  shot,  the  plunge  of  the  bank  caving  in,  the 
splashing  of  a  big  fish,  and  the  crashing  of  an  animal 
through  tlie  wild,  overgrown  forest. 

Once  an  owl  flew  down  the  T^rek,  flapping  its  wings 
together  exactly  after  every  two  strokes.  Eight  over  the 
Cossacks'  heads  it  turned  toward  the  forest,  this  time 


126  THE    COSSACKS 

flapping  its  wings  after  every  stroke,  and  not  alternately, 
and  then  fluttered  about  for  a  long  time  before  alighting 
on  an  old  plane-tree.  At  every  such  unexpected  sound, 
the  waking  Cossack  strained  his  ears,  blinked,  and  lei- 
surely fingered  his  musket. 

The  greater  part  of  the  night  had  passed.  The  black 
cloud,  moving  to  the  west,  disclosed  behind  its  ragged 
edges  the  clear,  starry  heaven,  and  the  tipping  golden  horn 
of  the  moon  gleamed  red  above  the  mountains.  It  was 
getting  chilly. 

Nazarka  awoke,  said  something,  and  again  fell  asleep. 
Lukashka,  being  tired,  got  up,  took  his  knife  from  behind 
his  dagger,  and  began  to  whittle  the  stick  into  a  ramrod. 
He  was  thinking  how  the  Chechens  were  living  there  in 
the  mountains  ;  how  their  braves  crossed  on  this  side ; 
how  they  were  not  afraid  of  the  Cossacks ;  and  how  they 
might  cross  in  another  place.  And  he  craned  his  neck, 
and  looked  down  the  river,  but  he  could  see  nothing. 
Glancing  now  and  then  at  tlie  river  and  at  the  distant 
shore  which  was  feebly  differentiated  from  the  water  in 
the  pale  light  of  the  moon,  he  stopped  thinking  of  the 
Chechens,  and  only  waited  for  the  time  to  wake  his  com- 
panions, and  go  back  to  the  village.  In  the  village  he 
thought  of  Diinka,  his  little  soul,  as  the  Cossacks  call  their 
sweethearts,  and  he  was  angry. 

There  were  signs  of  the  morning.  A  silvery  mist 
gleamed  over  the  water,  and  some  young  eagles  uttered  a 
shrill  whistle  near  him,  and  flapped  their  wings.  Finally, 
the  crowing  of  the  first  cock  was  borne  afar  from  the 
village,  then  another  protracted  cockcrow,  to  which  other 
voices  answered. 

"  It  is  time  to  wake  them,"  thought  Lukashka,  having 
finished  his  ramrod,  and  feeling  that  his  eyelids  were  get- 
ting heavy.  He  turned  to  his  companions,  and  tried  to 
make  out  to  whom  each  pair  of  legs  belonged.  But  sud- 
denly  it   appeared  to  him  that  something  splashed  on 


THE   COSSACKS  127 

the  other  side  of  the  Terek,  and  he  once  more  gazed  at  the 
dawning  horizon  of  the  mountains,  under  the  tipping 
sickle  of  the  moon,  at  the  line  of  the  opposite  shore,  at 
the  Terek,  and  at  the  trunks  which  were  distinctly  visi- 
ble in  the  current.  It  seemed  to  him  that  he  was  in 
motion,  and  that  the  T^rek  with  the  tree-trunks  was 
stationary ;  but  that  lasted  only  a  minute.  He  looked 
down  once  more. 

One  large  black  trunk  with  a  bough  more  especially 
attracted  his  attention.  It  was  moving  strangely  in  the 
middle  of  the  stream,  without  rolling  or  twisting.  He 
even  thought  that  it  did  not  follow  the  current,  but  made 
across  the  river  toward  a  shoal.  Lukashka  craned  his 
neck,  and  began  to  watch  it  with  fixed  attention.  The 
trunk  reached  the  shoal,  where  it  stopped  ;  there  was 
something  moving  there,  Lukashka  wms  sure  he  had 
seen  a  hand  rise  from  underneath  the  log. 

"  I  will  kill  an  abr^k  all  by  myself ! "  he  thought, 
seized  his  gun  without  undue  haste,  but  swiftly  planted 
his  forked  support,  placed  his  gun  over  it,  softly  raised  the 
hammer,  holding  it  with  his  fingers,  and,  holding  his 
breath,  kept  a  sharp  lookout,  and  began  to  aim. 

"  I  will  not  wake  them,"  he  thought.  Still,  his  heart 
began  to  beat  so  powerfully  in  his  breast,  that  he  stopped 
to  listen.  The  log  suddenly  splashed,  and  again  made 
straight  for  our  shore. 

"  It  would  be  dreadful  if  I  let  him  through ! "  he 
thought,  and  suddenly,  in  the  feeble  moonlight,  a  Tartar 
head  flashed  in  front  of  the  log.  He  aimed  straight  at 
that  head.  It  seemed  to  him  to  be  very  near,  at  the  end 
of  his  barrel.     He  looked  across. 

"  That  is  it,  an  abr^k,"  he  thought  joyfully,  and  sud- 
denly getting  up  on  his  knees,  he  again  adjusted  the  gun, 
looked  for  the  sight,  which  was  barely  visible  at  the  end 
of  the  long  barrel,  and,  according  to  a  Cossack  custom, 
acquired  in  childhood,  pronounced  "  To  the  Father  and 


128  THE    COSSACKS 

the  Son,"  and  pulled  the  trigger.  The  flash  for  a  moment 
lighted  up  the  reeds  and  the  water.  The  sharp,  crack- 
ling sound  of  the  discharge  rang  out  over  the  river,  and 
passed  into  a  distant  rumble.  The  log  no  longer  swam 
across  the  river,  but  down  the  current,  rolling  and 
quivering. 

"Hold  him,  I  say!"  cried  Ergushdv,  fingering  his 
musket,  and  raising  himself  behind  the  log. 

"  Keep  quiet,  devil  1 "  Lukashka  whispered  to  him  with 
chnched  teeth.     "  Abr(5ks  !  " 

"  Whom  did  you  shoot  ?  "  asked  Nazarka.  "  Whom  did 
you  shoot,  Lukashka  ? " 

Lukashka  did  not  answer.  He  loaded  his  gun,  and 
watched  the  log  that  was  carried  down  the  stream.  It 
stopped  on  a  shoal,  not  far  off,  and  something  large,  mov- 
ing on  the  water,  appeared  from  behind  it. 

"What  did  you  shoot?  Why  don't  you  tell?"  re- 
peated   the   Cossacks. 

"  Abr^ks,  I  told  you,"  repeated  Lukashka. 

"  Stop  guying  us !  The  gun,  I  guess,  went  off  by 
itself ! " 

«  I  have  killed  an  abr6k !  That's  what  I  have  killed  ! " 
said  Lukashka,  in  a  voice  trembling  with  excitement, 
leaping  to  his  feet.  "  A  man  was  swimming  — "  he 
said,  pointing  to  the  shoal.  "  I  have  killed  him.  Look 
there ! " 

"  Stop  telling  lies  ! "  said  Ergushov,  rubbing  his  eyes. 

"  Wliat  lies  ?  Look  there  !  Look,"  said  Lukashka,  grab- 
bing him  by  the  shoulders  and  bending  him  downward 
toward  him  with  such  force  that  Ergushov  groaned. 

Ergushov  looked  in  the  direction  pointed  out  by  Lu- 
kashka, and,  noticing  a  human  form  there,  at  once  changed 
his  tone, 

"  I  declare !  I  tell  you,  there  will  be  others.  I  tell 
you  for  sure,"  he  said,  quietly,  and  began  to  examine  his 
musket.     '•'  That  was  the  leader  who  was  making  across ; 


I 


THE    COSSACKS  129 

they  are  already  here,  or  not  far  away,  on  the  other 
shore ;  I  am  telling  you  for  sure." 

Lukashka  ungh'ded  himself,  and  began  to  take  off  his 
mantle. 

"  Whither  do  you  want  to  go,  fool  ? "  cried  Ergushdv. 
"  You  just  move,  and  it  will  be  up  with  you,  I  am  telling 
you  for  sure.  If  you  have  killed  him  he  vnll  not  get 
away.  Let  me  have  some  powder.  Have  you  any  ? 
Nazar!  You  go  at  once  to  the  cordon,  but  don't  go 
along  the  bank ;  they'll  kill  you,  I  am  telling  you  for 
sure." 

"  You  will  see  me  go  alone  !  Go  yourself ! "  Nazarka 
said,  angrily. 

Lukashka  took  off  his  mantle,  and  walked  up  to  the 
bank. 

"  Don't  expose  yourself,  I  tell  you,"  said  Ergushov, 
pouring  powder  on  the  pan  of  his  gun.  "  I  see  he  is  not 
moving  now.  It  is  not  far  to  morning,  and  by  that  time 
they'll  come  up  from  the  cordon.  Go  on,  Nazarka !  Oh, 
you  are  afraid !     Don't  be  afraid,  I  say." 

"  Lukashka,  Lukashka,"  said  Nazarka,  "  tell  us  how  you 
killed  him." 

Lukashka  changed  his  mind  about  going  immediately 
into  the  water. 

"  Go  to  the  cordon  at  once,  and  I  will  stay  here.  Tell 
the  Cossacks  to  scatter.  If  they  are  on  this  side,  we 
ought  to  catch  them." 

"  I  say  they  will  get  away,"  said  Ergushov,  rising. 
"  We  ought  to  catch  them,  that's  so." 

And  Ergushov  and  Nazarka  got  up,  and,  crossing  them- 
selves, went  to  the  cordon,  not  along  the  bank,  but  mak- 
ing their  way  through  the  buckthorns  and  getting  out  on 
the  forest  path, 

"  Look  out,  Lukashka,  don't  stir  ! "  said  Ergushov,  "  or 
they'll  cut  your  throat  here.  Be  on  the  lookout,  I  tell 
you." 


130  THE    COSSACKS 

"  Go  on,  I  know,"  said  Lukashka,  and,  examining  his 
gun,  he  took  up  his  seat  behind  the  log. 

Lukashka  sat  all  alone,  watching  the  shoal,  and  listen- 
ing for  the  Cossacks ;  but  it  was  quite  a  distance  to  the 
cordon,  and  impatience  tormented  him;  he  was  dread- 
fully afraid  that  the  abr^ks  who  came  with  the  man  he 
had  killed  would  get  away.  He  was  just  as  much  in  dread 
that  the  abr(^ks  would  get  away,  as  he  had  been  mortified 
the  night  before  at  the  escape  of  the  boar.  He  gazed  all 
around  him,  and  at  the  opposite  bank,  expecting  to  see  a 
man  any  time ;  he  planted  his  forked  support,  and  was 
ready  to  shoot.  It  did  not  even  occur  to  him  that  he 
might  be  killed. 


IX. 

Day  was  dawning.  The  whole  form  of  the  Chechen, 
which  had  been  carried  to  the  shoal,  and  was  barely 
moving  there,  was  now  distinctly  visible.  Suddenly  the 
reeds  crashed  near  the  Cossack,  steps  were  heard,  and  the 
cattails  came  into  motion.  The  Cossack  cocked  his  gun, 
and  said,  "  To  the  Father  and  the  Son."  As  soon  as  the 
hammer  clicked,  the  steps  were  silenced. 

"  0  Cossacks !  Don't  kill  uncle,"  was  heard  the  quiet 
bass,  and,  pushing  aside  the  reeds,  Uncle  Eroshka  stood 
right  before  him. 

"  I  came  very  near  kilHug  you,  upon  my  word ! "  said 
Lukashka. 

"  What  have  you  shot  ? "  asked  the  old  man. 

The  melodious  voice  of  the  old  man,  ringing  through 
the  forest  and  down  the  river,  suddenly  broke  the  still- 
ness and  mystery  of  the  night,  which  had  surrounded  the 
Cossack.  It  seemed  as  though  it  had  suddenly  become 
lighter  and  brighter. 

"  Now,  you  have  seen  nothing,  uncle,  but  I  have  killed 
a  beast,"  said  Lukashka,  uncocking  his  gun,  and  rising  in 
feigned  composure. 

The  old  man  did  not  take  his  eyes  off  the  clearly  dis- 
cernible white  back,  around  which  the  T^rek  rippled. 

"  He  had  been  swimming  with  the  log  on  his  back.  I 
watched  for  him.  Just  look  there !  There !  He  is  in 
blue  trousers,  and  I  think  there  is  a  gun  —  You  see, 
don't  you  ?  "  said  Lukashka. 

"  Of  course  I  see  ! "  said  the  old  man,  angrilv,  and  there 
13] 


132  THE    COSSACKS 

was  a  solemn  and  austere  expression  in  his  face.  "  You 
have  killed  a  brave,"  he  said,  as  though  with  regret. 

"  I  was  sitting,  and  suddenly  I  saw  something  black  on 
the  other  side.  I  had  almost  made  him  out  there :  it 
looked  as  though  a  man  had  walked  up  and  dropped  into 
the  river.  What  was  it  ?  A  log,  a  big  log  was  swimming, 
not  down  the  current,  but  straight  across.  I  looked,  and 
there  a  head  peeped  out  from  underneath  it.  What  is 
that  ?  I  aimed,  but  I  could  not  see  behind  the  reeds. 
He  stood  up,  the  beast,  having  heard  me,  no  doubt,  and 
crawled  out  on  a  shoal,  and  looked  about  him.  '  You 
are  mistaken,'  thought  I,  'you  will  not  get  away.'  He 
crept  up,  and  looked  around.  (I  felt  like  choking !)  I 
fixed  the  gun,  did  not  stir,  and  waited.  He  stood  awhile, 
and  again  started  swimming;  and  when  he  swam  out  in 
the  moon,  his  back  could  be  seen.  '  To  the  Father  and 
the  Son  and  the  Holy  Ghost ! '  I  looked,  after  the  smoke 
had  cleared  away,  and  saw  that  he  was  struggling.  He 
groaned,  or  I  thought  he  did.  '  Well,  thank  the  Lord,'  I 
thought,  '  I  have  killed  him  ! '  And  when  he  was  carried 
on  the  shoal,  and  he  got  out,  and  wanted  to  get  up,  he 
saw  that  he  liad  no  strength.  He  floundered  and  floun- 
dered, and  lay  down.  It  is  clear  now,  and  one  can  see 
everything.  He  does  not  stir;  no  doubt  he  is  dead. 
The  Cossacks  have  gone  to  the  cordon,  to  keep  the  others 
from  escaping ! " 

"  So  you  have  caught  him  ! "  said  the  old  man.  "  It  is 
far  now,  my  friend  — "  And  he  again  shook  his  head 
gloomily.  At  that  moment  Cossacks  on  foot  and  on 
horseback  could  be  heard  along  the  bank,  conversing 
loudly  and  crashing  through  the  branches. 

"  You  are  a  fine  fellow,  Lukashka !  Pull  him  to  the 
shore,"  shouted  one  of  the  Cossacks. 

Lukashka  did  not  wait  for  the  skiff,  but  began  to 
undress  himself,  keeping  all  the  time  a  close  watch  on 
his  prey. 


THE    COSSACKS  133 

"  Wait,  Nazarka  is  bringing  up  a  skiff,"  cried  the  under- 
officer. 

"  Fool !  He  may  be  alive  !  He  is  feigning  !  Take  along 
a  dagger,"  cried  another  Cossack. 

"  Nonsense ! "  cried  Lukashka,  taking  off'  his  trousers. 
He  undressed  himself  in  a  trice,  crossed  himself,  and, 
leaping  up,  jumped  into  the  water  with  a  splash ;  he  took 
a  plunge,  reached  out  far  with  his  white  arms,  and  raising 
his  back  high  out  of  the  water,  and  struggling  against  the 
current,  made  across  the  T^rek,  toward  the  shoal.  A 
crowd  of  Cossacks  were  talking  loudly  on  the  shore,  a 
few  voices  at  a  time.  Three  horsemen  rode  far  around. 
The  skiff  appeared  around  a  bend.  Lukashka  rose  on 
the  shoal,  bent  over  the  body,  and  rolled  it  around  once 
or  twice.  "  He  is  certainly  dead  1 "  rang  out  Lukashka's 
voice  from  there. 

The  Chechen  had  been  shot  through  his  head.  He 
wore  blue  trousers,  a  shirt,  and  a  mantle ;  and  a  gun  and 
a  dagger  were  tied  to  his  back.  Above  it  all  was  fastened 
a  large  bough  which  had  at  first  mystified  Lukashka. 

"  That's  the  way  the  carp  was  caught !  "  said  one  of  the 
Cossacks,  who  were  standing  around,  when  the  body  of 
the  Chechen  was  dragged  out  of  the  skiff,  and  lay  on  the 
bank,  crushing  the  grass. 

"  How  yellow  he  is  ! "  said  another. 

"  Where  have  ours  gone  to  find  them  ?  They  must  all 
be  on  the  other  side.  If  he  were  not  the  leader,  he  would 
not  have  swum  in  this  fashion.  What  sense  would  there 
be  in  swimming  all  alone  ?"  said  a  third. 

"  I  say  he  must  have  been  a  clever  fellow,  to  have  gone 
ahead  of  the  rest.  A  first-class  brave ! "  Lukashka  re- 
marked, sarcastically,  squeezing  out  his  wet  clothes  on 
the  shore,  and  shuddering  all  the  time.  "  His  beard  is 
painted  and  cropped." 

"  And  he  had  fixed  his  coat  in  a  bag  on  his  back.  This 
made  it  easier  for  him  to  swim,"  some  one  remarked. 


134  THE    COSSACKS 

"  Listen,  Lukashka,"  said  the  under-officer,  who  was 
holding  the  gun  and  dagger  that  had  been  taken  from  the 
dead  man.  "  You  take  the  dagger  and  the  coat ;  and  for 
the  gun  come  and  get  three  roubles.  You  see  it  has  a 
rift,"  he  added,  blowing  down  the  barrel,  "  but  I  should 
like  to  have  it  as  a  memento." 

Lukashka  did  not  reply ;  he  was  evidently  annoyed  at 
this  begging,  but  he  knew  that  there  was  no  escaping  it. 

"  Well,  the  devil ! "  he  said,  frowning,  and  throwing  the 
coat  down  on  the  ground.  "  If  it  were  a  decent  coat,  but 
it  is  only  a  gabardine." 

"  It  will  do  to  haul  wood  in,"  said  another  Cossack. 

"  Mosev !  I  will  go  home,"  said  Lukashka,  evidently 
forgetting  his  annoyance,  and  trying  to  make  good  use  of 
his  present  to  his  superior. 

"  Go,  why  not  ? " 

"  Take  him  down  to  the  cordon,  boys,"  the  under-officer 
said,  turning  to  the  Cossacks,  all  the  time  examining  the 
gun.  "  And  we  must  make  a  tent  over  his  body.  They 
may  come  down  from  the  mountains  to  ransom  it." 

"  It  is  not  too  hot  yet,"  some  one  said. 

"  Won't  the  jackals  tear  him  up  ?  Would  that  be 
well  ? "  one  of  the  Cossacks  remarked. 

"  We  will  place  a  sentinel  near  by.  They  will  come  to 
ransom  the  .body,  and  it  would  not  do  to  have  it  all 
torn." 

"  Well,  Lukashka,  you  may  say  what  you  please,  but 
you  will  have  to  treat  the  boys  to  a  bucketful,"  the  under- 
ofhcer  added,  merrily. 

"  That  is  the  custom,"  the  Cossacks  chimed  in.  "  Just 
see  the  luck  God  has  given  him  !  He  has  not  seen  any- 
thing yet,  but  has  already  killed  an  abr^k." 

"  Buy  the  dagger  and  the  coat  of  me  !  I  want  all  the 
money  I  can  get.  I  will  sell  the  trousers,  too.  God  be 
with  you,"  said  Lukashka.  "  They  won't  fit  me.  —  he  was 
a  lean  devil." 


I 


THE    COSSACKS  135 

One  Cossack  bought  the  coat  for  a  rouble.  Another 
gave  two  bucketfuls  for  the  dagger. 

"  You  will  have  a  drink,  boys,  for  I  will  set  up  a 
bucket,"  said  Lukashka.  "  I'll  fetch  it  myself  from  the 
village." 

"  And  cut  up  the  trousers  for  kerchiefs  for  the  girls," 
said  Nazarka. 

The  Cossacks  roared. 

"  Stop  your  laughing ! "  said  the  under-officer.  "  Drag 
off  the  body  !  Who  wants  to  keep  such  a  thing  near  the 
hut  —  " 

"  Why  are  you  standing  around  ?  Drag  him  over  here, 
boys ! "  Lukashka  shouted  in  a  voice  of  command  to  the 
Cossacks,  who  did  not  like  to  touch  the  body,  but  carried 
out  his  orders  as  though  he  were  their  superior.  After 
dragging  the  body  away  for  a  few  steps,  the  Cossacks 
dropped  its  legs,  which  hung  down  lifeless  ;  they  stepped 
aside,  and  stood  for  a  moment  in  silence.  Nazarka  walked 
up  to  the  body,  and  straightened  out  the  head,  which  had 
bent  under,  so  that  the  round  blood-stained  wound  above 
the  temple  and  the  face  of  the  dead  man  could  be  seen. 

"  You  see  what  a  mark  he  lias  made  there !  Hit  him 
right  in  his  brain  !  "  he  said.  "  He  will  not  be  lost.  His 
people  will  identify  him." 

No  one  said  a  word,  and  again  the  angel  of  silence 
passed  over  the  Cossacks. 

The  sun  had  risen,  and  with  its  broken  beams  lighted 
up  the  dewy  foliage.  The  T^rek  roared  not  far  off,  in  the 
awakening  forest.  The  pheasants  called  to  each  other  on 
all  sides,  greeting  the  morning.  The  Cossacks  stood,  silent 
and  motionless,  around  the  dead  man,  and  gazed  at  him. 
His  cinnamon-coloured  body,  in  nothing  but  blue  trousers, 
turned  darker  from  having  been  soaked  in  the  water,  and 
held  together  by  a  belt  over  his  hollow  belly,  was  slender 
and  beautiful.  His  muscular  arms  lay  straight,  down  his 
ribs.      His  livid,   freshly   shaven   round   head,  with   the 


136  THE   COSSACKS 

clotted  wound  at  one  side,  was  bent  back.  The  smooth, 
sunburnt  forehead  stood  out  sharply  from  his  shaven  head. 
The  glassy,  open  eyes,  with  their  pupils  standing  low, 
looked  upwards,  apparently  beyond  everything.  On  his 
thin  lips,  with  their  drawn  edges,  which  could  be  seen 
behind  his  clipped  red  moustache,  there  seemed  to  hover 
a  good-natured,  dehcate  smile.  The  small  finger  joints 
were  covered  with  red  hairs ;  the  fingers  were  bent  in- 
wardly, and  the  nails  were  dyed  red. 

Lukashka  was  not  yet  dressed.  He  was  wet ;  his  neck 
was  redder,  and  his  eyes  were  sparkling  more  than  usual ; 
his  broad  cheek-bones  quivered ;  from  his  white,  healthy 
body  a  barely  perceptible  evaporation  rose  into  the  fresh 
morning  air. 

"  He  was  a  man,  too ! "  he  said,  apparently  admiring 
the  dead  body. 

"  Yes,  if  he  had  gotten  you,  he  would  not  have  let  you 
off,"  said  one  of  the  Cossacks. 

The  angel  of  silence  flew  away.  The  Cossacks  began 
to  stir,  and  to  chat.  Two  went  to  cut  some  brush  for  the 
tent.  Others  leisurely  walked  back  to  the  cordon.  Lu- 
kashka and  Nazarka  hastened  to  get  ready  for  the  village. 

Half  an  hour  later,  Lukashka  and  Nazarka,  almost  on  a 
run,  were  making  their  way  home,  through  the  dense 
forest  which  separated  the  T^rek  from  their  village ;  they 
did  not  cease  talking. 

"  Don't  tell  her,  remember,  that  I  have  sent  you.  You 
just  go  and  see  whether  her  husband  is  at  home,"  said 
Lukashka,  in  a  shrill  voice. 

"  And  I  will  go  and  see  Yamka.  We  will  have  a  good 
time,  won't  we  ? "  asked  submissive  ISTazarka. 

"  When  are  we  to  have  a  good  time,  if  not  to-day  ? " 
answered  Lukasha. 

Upon  arriving  at  the  village  the  Cossacks  drank  them- 
selves drunk,  and  went  to  sleep  until  the  evening. 


X. 

Two  days  after  this  occurrence,  two  companies  of  infan- 
try of  the  Army  of  the  Caucasus  came  to  take  up  quarters 
in  the  village  of  Novomlin.  The  company  wagons  already 
stood  unhitched  in  the  square.  The  cooks  had  dug  a 
hole  and  brought  together  from  the  different  yards  any 
chips  that  were  not  securely  put  away,  and  were  cooking 
soup.  The  corporals  were  calling  the  roll.  The  soldiers 
of  the  convoy  were  driving  down  stakes  to  tie  their  horses 
to.  The  quartermaster-sergeants,  who  were  at  home  here, 
rushed  through  the  streets  and  lanes,  assigning  quarters 
to  the  officers  and  soldiers. 

Here  were  green  caissons  drawn  up  in  battle  array. 
Here  were  the  company's  carts  and  their  horses.  Here 
were  the  kettles  in  which  the  buckwheat  porridge  was 
cooked.  Here  was  the  captain,  and  the  lieutenant,  and 
Onisim  Mikhaylovich,  the  sergeant. 

And  all  this  found  itself  in  the  very  village  where,  so 
they  said,  the  companies  were  ordered  to  be  stationed  ; 
consequently  the  companies  were  at  home.  Why  are 
they  stationed  here  ?  Who  are  these  Cossacks  ?  Do  they 
like  to  have  soldiers  stationed  in  their  village  ?  Are 
they  dissenters  or  not  ?     That  is  nobody's  business. 

Being  dismissed  after  roll-call,  the  tired  and  dusty  sol- 
diers, noisily  and  in  disorder,  hke  a  setthng  swarm  of  bees, 
scattered  over  the  squares  and  streets.  Paying  not  the 
least  attention  to  the  unfriendly  attitude  of  the  Cossacks, 
they  entered  the  huts,  in  groups  of  two  and  three,  chat- 
termg  merrily  and  clattering  with  their  guns ;  they  hung 

137 


138  THE    COSSACKS 

up  their  accoutrements,  opened  their  bags,  and  joked  with 
the  women. 

A  large  group  of  soldiers,  with  pipes  between  their 
teeth,  gathered  in  their  favourite  place,  near  the  gruel- 
kettles.  They  now  watched  the  smoke  which  rose  imper- 
ceptibly to  the  burning  sky,  and  high  up  in  the  air 
condensed  into  a  white  cloud,  or  the  camp-fire  which 
trembled  in  the  clear  air  like  melted  glass ;  they  bantered 
and  ridiculed  the  Cossack  men  and  women  for  living 
differently  from  the  Eussians. 

In  all  the  yards  soldiers  could  be  seen ;  one  could  hear 
their  laughter,  and  the  furious,  shrill  voices  of  the  Cos- 
sack women,  defending  their  houses,  and  refusing  water 
and  utensils.  Little  boys  and  girls  pressed  close  to  their 
mothers  and  to  each  other,  following,  with  an  expression 
of  amazement,  all  the  unfamiliar  movements  of  the  sol- 
diers, or  they  ran  after  them  at  a  respectful  distance. 
The  old  Cossacks  came  out  of  their  cabins,  sat  down  on 
the  mounds,  and  gloomily  and  in  silence  watched  the 
bustle  of  the  soldiers,  as  though  giving  everything  up  in 
despair,  and  not  understanding  what  would  come  of 
it  all. 

Olenin,  who  had  been  enrolled  in  the  Army  of  the 
Caucasus  for  the  last  three  months,  was  assigned  quarters 
with  the  Ensign  Ilya  Vasilevich,  that  is,  with  Mother 
Ulitka,  in  one  of  the  best  cabins  in  the  village. 

"What  will  this  be,  Dmitri  Andr^evich?"  said  Van- 
yiisha,  out  of  breath,  to  Olenin,  who,  dressed  in  a  mantle, 
after  a  five-liour  ride,  merrily  cantered  on  his  Kabarda 
horse,  which  he  had  purchased  at  Grdznaya,  into  the  yard 
of  the  assigned  quarters. 

"  Why  so,  Ivan  Vasilevich  ? "  he  asked,  patting  his 
horse,  and  cheerfully  looking  at  perspiring  Vanyiisha, 
who,  with  his  dishevelled  hair  and  dejected  face,  had 
arrived  witli  the  baggage,  and  was  now  sorting  out  things. 

Olenin  appeared  now  an  entirely  different  man.     In- 


THE    COSSACKS  139 

stead  of  his  shaven  face,  he  now  wore  a  young  beard 
and  moustache.  Instead  of  his  drawn  face,  sallow  from 
nightly  dissipations,  there  was  a  healthy  ruddy  tan  on  his 
cheeks  and  forehead  and  behind  his  ears.  Instead  of  a 
clean  new  black  dress  coat,  he  wore  a  dirty  white  mantle 
with  wide  folds,  and  weapons.  Instead  of  clean  starched 
collars,  the  red  collar  of  a  half-coat  of  Persian  silk  fitted 
tightly  around  his  sunburnt  neck.  He  was  clad  in  Cir- 
cassian fashion,  but  not  correctly  so ;  anybody  could  have 
told  that  he  was  a  Eussian,  and  not  a  Chechen  brave. 
Everything  was  correct,  and  yet  wrong !  But  his  whole 
figure  breathed  health,  cheerfulness,  and  self-satisfaction. 

"  It  is  all  funny  to  you,"  said  Vanyusha,  "  but  just  try 
and  talk  with  these  people :  they  won't  let  you  alone,  and 
that  is  all.  You  can't  get  a  word  out  of  them."  Van- 
yiisha  angrily  threw  down  an  iron  pail  at  the  threshold. 
"They  are  anything  but  Russians!" 

"  You  ought  to  have  gone  to  the  village  commander ! " 

"  But  I  do  not  know  where  all  the  places  are,"  Van- 
yusha replied,  peevishly. 

"  Who  has  been  insulting  you  ? "  Ol^nin  asked,  casting 
a  glance  around  him. 

"  The  devil  knows  them  !  Pshaw  !  The  real  master  is 
not  here ;  they  say  he  has  gone  to  a  '  kriga.'  ^  And  the 
old  woman  is  a  devil,  —  the  Lord  preserve  me  from  such," 
answered  Vauyiisha,  grasping  his  head.  "  I  really  do  not 
know  how  we  shall  manage  to  live  here.  They  are  worse 
than  Tartars,  upon  my  word.  What  of  it  if  they  call  them- 
selves Christians?  Take  a  Tartar,  he  is  more  gentle- 
manly. '  He  has  gone  to  the  kriga  ! '  I  can't  make  out 
what  they  mean  by  'kriga'!"  Vanyusha  concluded, 
turning  aside. 

"  What  ?  They  are  not  like  our  country  people  ? "  eaid 
Ol^nin,  jestingly,  remaining  on  his  horse. 

^  A  place  uear  the  bauk,  surrounded  by  a  wattled  fence,  where  fish 
are  caught. 


140  THE   COSSACKS 

«  Let  me  have  the  horse,  if  you  please,"  said  Vanyusha, 
obviously  put  out  by  the  new  order  of  things,  but  sub- 
mitting to  fate. 

"  So  a  Tartar  is  more  gentlemanly  ?  Eh,  Vanyusha  ? " 
repeated  Ol^nin,  dismounting,  and  slapping  his  saddle. 

"  Yes,  you  can  laugh  !  It  seems  funny  to  you  !  "  said 
Vanyusha,  in  an  angry  voice. 

"  Wait,  don't  get  angry,  Ivan  Vasilevich,"  answered  01^- 
nin,  continuing  to  smile.  "Just  let  me  see  the  people, 
and  you  will  see  how  I  will  settle  them.  We  will  have 
a  glorious  time  yet !     Only  do  not  excite  yourself  ! " 

Vanyusha  did  not  retort  anything;  he  bhnked,  con- 
temptuously looked  in  the  direction  of  his  master,  and 
shook  his  head.  Vanyusha  looked  upon  01t5nin  only  as 
upon  his  master.  Oleuin  looked  upon  Vanyusha  only 
as  upon  his  servant.  They  would  both  have  been  very 
much  surprised  if  some  one  had  told  them  that  they  were 
friends.  Yet  they  were  friends,  without  knowing  it  them- 
selves. Vanyusha  had  been  taken  to  the  house  when  he 
was  eleven  years  old,  when  Ol^nin  was  of  the  same  age. 
When  Olenin  was  fifteen  years  old,  he  for  awhile  gave 
Vanyusha  lessons,  and  taught  him  to  read  French,  of 
which  fact  Vanyusha  was  exceedingly  proud.  And  even 
now,  in  moments  of  cheerfulness,  he  was  in  the  habit 
of  dropping  now  and  then  a  French  word,  whereat  he 
grinned  stupidly. 

Olt^niu  ran  up  to  the  porch  of  the  cabin,  and  pushed 
the  door  open  into  the  vestibule.  Maryanka,  in  nothing 
but  a  rose-coloured  shirt,  as  Cossack  women  are  dressed 
at  home,  leaped  away  from  the  door  in  affright,  and, 
pressing  against  the  wall,  covered  the  lower  part  of  her 
face  with  the  broad  sleeve  of  her  Tartar  shirt.  As  Olenin 
opened  the  door  still  farther,  he  saw  in  the  half-light  the 
whole  tall  and  stately  figure  of  the  young  Cossack  maiden. 
With  the  swift  and  eager  curiosity  of  youth,  he  involun- 
tarily noticed  the  strong,  virgin  form  clearly   outlined 


THE    COSSACKS  141 

under  the  thin  chintz  shirt,  and  the  beautiful  black  eyes 
which  were  directed  upon  him  with  childhke  terror  and 
wild  surprise. 

"  There  she  is  ! "  thought  Ol^nin,  "  Yes,  there  will  be 
many  more  such,"  it  suddenly  occurred  to  him,  and  he 
opened  another  door  of  the  cabin.  Mother  Ulitka,  also 
in  nothing  but  a  shirt,  was  turned  with  her  back  toward 
him,  and,  bending  over,  was  sweeping  the  floor. 

"  Good  day,  mother  !  I  have  come  to  ask  about  the 
quarters,"  he  began. 

The  Cossack  woman,  without  unbending,  turned  to  him 
her  austere,  but  stiU  comely  face. 

"  What  did  you  come  for  ?  You  want  to  make  fun  of 
me  ?  What  ?  I'll  give  you  fun  !  The  black  plague  take 
you ! "  she  cried,  looking  askance  at  the  stranger,  with  a 
scowl. 

Ol^nin  had  imagined  at  first  that  the  hard-working 
brave  Army  of  the  Caucasus,  of  which  he  was  a  member, 
would  be  received  everywhere  with  joy,  especially  by  the 
Cossacks,  his  companions  of  war,  and  therefore  such  a 
reception  puzzled  him.  However,  he  did  not  become 
confused,  and  wished  to  explain  that  he  intended  to  pay 
for  his  quarters,  but  the  old  woman  would  not  let  him 
finish  his  words. 

"  Why  did  you  come  ?  Who  needs  such  a  sore  ?  You 
sandpapered  snout !  Just  wait,  the  master  will  come, 
and  he  will  show  you  the  place !  I  do  not  need  your 
damnable  money.  I  guess  we  have  seen  that  before ! 
You  will  smoke  up  the  room  vdth  your  tobacco,  and  you 
mean  to  pay  with  money  for  it !  We  have  not  seen  such 
a  sore  before  !  Oh,  that  they  had  shot  your  heart  out ! " 
she  cried,  in  a  shrill  voice,  interrupting  Ol^nin. 

"  Evidently  Vanyusha  is  right,"  thought  Ol^nin.  "  A 
Tartar  is  more  gentlemanly,"  and  accompanied  by  Mother 
Ulitka's  curses,  he  walked  out  of  the  cabin.  As  he  was 
going  out,  Maryanka,  still  in  her  rose-coloured  shirt,  but 


142  THE    COSSACKS 

wrapped  up  to  her  eyes  iu  a  white  kerchief,  suddenly 
flashed  by  him,  and  out  of  the  vestibule.  Eapidly  trip- 
ping down  the  steps  in  her  bare  feet,  she  ran  away  from 
the  entrance,  stopped,  cast  with  her  smihng  eyes  a  rapid 
glance  upon  the  young  man,  and  disappeared  around  the 
corner  of  the  cabin. 

The  firm,  youthful  gait,  the  wild  glance  of  the  sparkling 
eyes  beneath  her  white  kerchief,  and  the  stateliness  of  the 
fair  maiden's  strong  frame  now  produced  an  even  stronger 
impression  upon  01(^nin,  "  It  must  be  she  ! "  he  thought ; 
and  forgetting  about  his  quarters,  and  all  the  time  look- 
ing back  at  Maryanka,  he  walked  up  to  Vanyusha. 

"  You  see,  the  girl  is  just  as  wild ! "  said  Vanyusha, 
who  was  still  busy  with  the  cart,  but  in  somewhat 
better  spirits.  "  She  is  just  like  a  filly  of  the  steppes. 
La  femme ! "  he  added,  in  a  loud  and  solemn  voice,  and 
burst  out  laughing. 


In  the  evening  the  master  returned  from  his  fishing 
expedition ;  upon  discovering  that  he  was  to  be  paid  for 
quarters,  he  pacified  the  old  woman,  and  satisfied  Van- 
yvisha's  demands. 

Everything  was  arranged  in  the  new  home.  The  pro- 
prietors passed  over  to  the  "  warm  "  cabin,  and,  for  three 
roubles  a  month,  turned  over  the  "  cold "  cabin  to  the 
yunker.  Ol^uin  took  a  lunch,  and  lay  down  for  a  nap. 
He  awoke  before  evening,  washed  himself,  cleaned  his 
clothes,  ate  his  dinner,  and,  lighting  a  cigarette,  sat 
down  near  the  window  facing  the  street.  The  heat  had 
subsided. 

The  slanting  shadow  of  the  cabin,  with  its  carved  ridge- 
piece,  lay  across  the  dusty  street,  and  even  bent  upwards 
on  the  lower  part  of  the  house  opposite.  The  sloping 
reed  thatch  of  this  house  was  gleaming  in  the  rays  of  the 
setting  sun.  The  air  was  growing  cool.  The  village 
was  still.  The  soldiers  had  found  their  quarters,  and 
were  quiet.  The  herds  had  not  yet  been  driven  home, 
and  the  people  had  not  yet  returned  from  their  field 
labour. 

Ol^uin's  quarters  were  almost  at  the  edge  of  the  vil- 
lage. Now  and  then,  somewhere  far  beyond  the  T^rek, 
in  the  direction  from  which  01(^nin  had  come,  could  be 
heard  the  hollow  reports  of  shots,  somewhere  in  the 
Chechnya,  or  in  the  Kumyk  plain. 

Ol&in  felt  at  ease  after  three  months  of  camp  life. 

143 


144  THE    COSSACKS 

His  well-washed  face  felt  fresh,  his  strong  body  felt  clean 
after  the  long  march,  and  all  his  hmbs  felt  strong  and 
rested. 

His  mind,  too,  felt  fresh  and  clear.  He  thought  of  the 
expedition,  and  the  past  peril.  He  recalled  that  he  had 
behaved  well  during  all  the  perils,  that  he  was  not  worse 
than  the  rest,  and  that  he  had  been  received  into  the 
company  of  brave  Caucasians,  His  Moscow  recollections 
were  now  God  knows  where.  His  old  life  was  wiped 
out,  and  a  new,  an  entirely  new  hfe,  in  which  no  mis- 
takes had  yet  been  committed,  began  for  him.  He  could, 
a  new  man  among  new  people,  earn  here  a  new  and  good 
opinion  of  himself.  He  experienced  the  youthful  feeling 
of  a  causeless  happiness  in  life,  and,  looking  now  through 
the  window  at  the  boys  spinning  their  tops  in  the  shadow 
of  the  house,  and  now  at  his  new  neat  lodging,  he  thought 
of  how  pleasantly  he  would  arrange  things  in  this  unfa- 
miliar life  in  the  village.  He  also  gazed  at  the  mountains 
and  at  the  sky,  and  with  all  his  recollections  and  dreams 
mingled  the  austere  feeling  of  the  majesty  of  Nature. 
Life  had  begun  differently  from  what  he  had  expected, 
when  he  departed  from  Moscow,  but,  nevertheless,  sur- 
passing his  expectation.  The  mountains,  the  mountains, 
the  mountains  were  in  everything  he  thought  and  felt. 

"  He  has  kissed  his  dog !  He  has  licked  the  jug ! 
Uncle  Erdshka  has  kissed  his  dog ! "  suddenly  cried  the 
Cossack  boys  who  were  spinning  their  tops  under  the 
window,  running  to  the  lane.  "He  has  kissed  his  dog! 
He  has  sold  his  dagger  for  drinks,"  cried  the  boys,  crowd- 
ing together  and  retreating. 

These  cries  were  directed  to  Uncle  Eroshka,  who,  with 
his  gun  on  his  back  and  some  pheasants  in  his  belt,  was 
returning  from  the  hunt. 

"  It  is  my  sin,  boys,  my  sin ! "  he  said,  wildly  waving 
his  arms,  and  looking  through  the  windows  of  the  cabins 
on  both  sides  of  the  road.     "I   have  sold  my  dog  for 


THE    COSSACKS  145 

drinks,  it  is  my  sin ! "  he  repeated,  apparently  angry,  but 
pretending  that  it  made  no  diflerence  to  him. 

Ol^nin  was  surprised  at  the  boys'  treatment  of  the  old 
hunter,  and  he  was  still  more  struck  by  the  expressive 
and  intelligent  face  and  by  the  powerful  frame  of  the 
man  whom  they  called  Uncle  Eroshka. 

"  Grandfather !  Cossack ! "  he  said,  turning  to  him. 
"  Come  here,  if  you  please  ! " 

The  old  man  looked  at  the  window,  and  stopped. 

"  Good  evening,  good  man ! "  he  said,  raising  his  cap 
above  his  clipped  hair. 

"  Good  evening,  good  man  ! "  answered  Ol^nin.  "  Why 
do  the  boys  call  that  way  to  you  ?  " 

Uncle  Eroshka  walked  up  to  the  window. 

"  They  are  teasing  me,  an  old  man.  That  is  nothing,  I 
hke  it.  Let  them  have  their  fun  out  of  uncle,"  he  said, 
in  the  firm  singsong  intonations,  in  which  respectable 
old  people  speak.  "  Are  you  the  commander  of  the 
soldiers  ? " 

"  No,  I  am  a  yunker.  Where  did  you  shoot  these 
pheasants  ?  "  Ol^nin  asked  him. 

"  I  shot  three  hens  in  the  woods,"  answered  the  old 
man,  turning  to  the  window  his  broad  back,  where,  with 
their  heads  stuck  through  the  belt  and  staining  the 
mantle,  hung  three  pheasants.  "  Have  you  never  seen 
any  before  ? "  he  asked.  "  If  you  want  to,  you  may  have 
two.  Here  ! "  and  he  put  two  pheasants  through  the  win- 
dow.    "  Well,  are  you  a  hunter  ? "  he  asked  him. 

"  I  am,  I  myself  killed  four  during  the  march." 

"  Four  ?  That  is  a  lof. ! "  said  the  old  man,  sarcasti- 
cally.    "  And  are  you  a  toper  ?     Do  you  drink  red  wine  ? " 

"  Why  not  ?     I  do  like  a  drink  now  and  then." 

"  Well,  I  see  you  are  a  fine  fellow !  We  will  be 
friends,"  said  Uncle  Eroshka. 

"  Come  in,"  said  Ol^nin,  "  and  we  will  have  some  red 
wine ! " 


146  THE    COSSACKS 

"  I  will,"  said  the  old  man.     "  Take  the  pheasants  ! " 

One  could  see  by  the  old  man's  face  that  he  took  a  lik- 
ing to  the  yunker;  and  he  immediately  understood  that 
he  could  have  a  drink  without  paying  for  it,  and  therefore 
it  was  all  right  to  present  him  with  two  pheasants. 

A  few  minutes  later,  the  form  of  Uncle  Erdshka 
appeared  in  the  door  of  the  cabin.  It  was  only  then  that 
OMnin  noticed  the  whole  size  and  powerful  build  of  the 
man,  even  though  his  cinnamon-coloured  face,  with  its 
perfectly  white  long  beard,  was  all  furrowed  with  deep 
wrinkles  of  old  age  and  hard  labour.  The  muscles  of  his 
legs,  arms,  and  shoulders  were  as  full  and  firm  as  in  a 
young  man.  On  his  head,  deep  scars,  all  healed  over, 
were  visible  under  his  short  hair.  His  thick  venous  neck 
was  covered  with  checkered  folds,  as  in  an  ox.  His  rough 
hands  were  all  battered  and  scratched  up. 

He  crossed  the  threshold  with  ease  and  agihty,  took  off 
his  gun  and  put  it  in  the  corner,  with  a  rapid  glance  sur- 
veyed and  estimated  the  private  belongings  that  were 
lying  in  the  room,  and,  without  stamping  his  buckskin- 
clad,  slanting  feet  on  the  floor,  walked  into  the  middle  of 
the  room.  With  him  entered  into  the  room  a  strong  and 
disagreeable  odour  of  red  wine,  brandy,  powder,  and 
clotted  blood. 

Uncle  Eroshka  bowed  toward  the  images,  straightened 
out  his  beard,  and,  walking  up  to  Olenin,  gave  him  his  fat 
black  hand. 

"  Koshkildy  !  "  he  said.  This  means,  in  Tartar,  "  We 
wish  you  health,"  or  "  Peace  be  with  you,"  as  they  say. 

"  Koshkildy  !  I  know,"  answered  Olenin,  giving  him  his 
hand. 

"  No,  you  do  not  know,  you  do  not  know  the  proper 
way,  you  fool !  "  said  Uncle  Eroshka,  reproachfully  shak- 
ing his  head.  "  When  they  say  '  Koshhildy  '  to  you,  you 
must  answer,  '  Allah  razi  ho  stin !  God  save  you ! ' 
That's  the  way,  my  father,  and  not  'Koshkildy!'      I'll 


THE    COSSACKS  147 

teach  you  everything.  We  had  a  Eussian  here,  by  the 
name  of  Ilya  Mos^ich  :  he  and  I  were  chums.  He  was  a 
tine  fellow.  Toper,  thief,  hunter.  Oh,  what  a  hunter  he 
was  !     I  taught  him  everything." 

"  What  are  you  going  to  teach  me  ? "  asked  OMnin, 
becoming  more  and  more  interested  in  the  old  man. 

"  I  will  take  you  out  hunting ;  I  will  teach  you  to  catch 
fish ;  I  will  show  the  Chechens  to  you ;  and  if  you  want 
a  sweetheart,  I  will  find  you  one.  That's  the  kind  of  a 
man  I  am !  I  am  a  joker ! "  and  the  old  man  burst  out 
laughing.  "  I  will  sit  down,  my  father,  I  am  tired. 
Karga  ?  "  he  added,  with  an  interrogative  look. 

"  What  does  karga  mean  ? "  asked  Ol^nin. 

"  It  means  '  good '  in  the  Georgian  language.  I  am  just 
saying  it ;  it  is  a  byword  of  mine,  my  favourite  word. 
Karga,  — -  when  I  say  that,  I  mean  I  am  joking.  Now, 
father,  order  up  some  red  wine.  Have  you  a  soldier  who 
is  serving  you  ?  Have  you  ?  Ivan  ! "  called  out  the 
old  man.  "  All  your  soldiers  are  named  Ivan.  Is  yours 
Ivan,  too  ? " 

"  That's  right,  Ivan,  Vanyusha !  Please  get  some  red 
wine  from  the  landlord,  and  bring  it  here." 

"  It's  all  the  same,  Vanyiisha,  or  Ivan.  Why  are  all 
your  soldiers  called  Ivan  ?  Ivan  !  "  repeated  the  old  man. 
"  You  ask  from  the  tapped  cask.  They  have  the  best  red 
wine  in  the  village.  Don't  give  more  than  thirty  kopeks 
an  eighth  measure ;  remember,  don't  give  any  more,  for 
she  is  a  hag,  and  wiU  —  Our  people  are  a  damned,  fool- 
ish lot,"  continued  Uncle  Eroshka,  in  a  confidential  tone, 
after  Vanyusha  had  left.  "  They  do  not  regard  you  as 
men.  You  are  worse  than  a  Tartar  to  them.  The  Eus- 
sians  they  call  beggars.  But,  in  ray  opinion,  though  you 
are  a  soldier,  you  are  a  man  all  the  same,  and  you  have  a 
soul  in  you.  Am  I  not  judging  right  ?  Ilya  Moseicli 
was  a  soldier,  but  what  a  fine  fellow  he  was !  Is  it  not 
so,  my  father  ?     That's  why  ours  do  not  hke  me ;  but 


148  THE   COSSACKS 

that  makes  no  difference  to  me.  I  am  a  cheerful  fellow ; 
I  love  everybody,  —  I  am  Erdshka,  that's  right,  my 
father!" 

And  the  old  man  gently  slapped  the  young  man  on  the 
shoulder. 


XIL 

In  the  meantime,  Vanyusha,  who  had  gotten  all  his 
house  affairs  in  good  order,  had  been  shaved  by  the  com- 
pany barber,  and  had  taken  his  trousers  out  of  his  boot- 
legs, as  a  sign  that  the  company  was  now  lodged  in 
commodious  quarters,  was  now  in  the  best  of  spirits.  He 
gazed  attentively,  but  not  malevolently,  at  Erdshka,  as 
though  he  were  a  strange  wild  beast, -shook  his  head  at  the 
floor  which  he  had  soiled,  and,  taking  out  from  under 
the  bench  two  empty  bottles,  went  to  see  the  landlady. 

"  Good  evening,  my  good  people  ! "  he  said,  having 
decided  to  be  particularly  gentle.  "  My  master  has  told 
me  to  buy  some  red  wine.     Fill  these,  good  people ! " 

The  old  woman  did  not  answer.  The  maiden  was 
standing  in  front  of  a  small  Tartar  mirror,  and  fixing  a 
kerchief  on  her  head ;  she  looked  silently  at  Vanyusha. 

"  I  will  pay  cash,  worthy  people,"  said  Vanyvisha,  rat- 
tling the  copper  coins  in  his  pocket.  "  You  be  good,  and 
we  will  be  good,  —  and  that  will  be  best,"  he  added. 

"  How  much  ? "  the  old  woman  asked,  curtly. 

"  An  eighth  measure."  ^ 

"  Go,  my  dear,  and  draw  it  for  them,"  said  Mother 
Ulitka,  turning  to  her  daughter.  "  Draw  it  off  from  the 
cask  that  has  been  tapped,  my  darling." 

The  girl  took  the  keys  and  a  decanter,  and  walked  out 
of  the  room  together  with  Vanyusha. 

iThat  is,  oue-eighth  of  a  *'  bucket,"  which  latter  is  about  two  and 
a  half  gallons. 

149 


150  THE    COSSACKS 

"  Tell  me  who  is  that  woman  ?  "  asked  01(^nin,  pointing 
to  Maryauka,  who  was  just  then  passing  by  the  window. 

The  old  man  winked,  and  nudged  the  young  man  with 
his  elbow. 

"  Wait,"  he  said,  and  leaned  out  of  the  window.  "  Kkhm  ! 
Kkhm  ! "  he  coughed  and  bellowed.  "  Maryauushka  !  O 
Maryanka  !  Love  me,  my  darling !  I  am  a  joker,"  he 
added,  in  a  whisper,  turning  to  Ol^uin. 

The  girl  did  not  turn  her  head,  but,  evenly  and  vigor- 
ously swinging  her  arms,  passed  by  the  window  'vith  the 
foppish,  dashing  gait  peculiar  to  the  Cossack  women.  She 
only  cast  a  slow  glance  upon  the  old  man  with  her  black, 
shaded  eyes. 

"  Love  me,  and  you  will  be  happy  !  "  cried  Eroshka,  and, 
winking,  looked  questioningly  at  Ol^niu.  "  I  am  a  dash- 
ing fellow,  I  am  a  joker,"  he  added.     "  She  is  a  queen,  eh  ? " 

"  A  beauty,"  said  OMnin.     "  Call  her  up  !  " 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it ! "  said  the  old  man.  "  They  are  trying 
to  get  her  married  to  Lukashka.  Luka  is  a  fine  Cossack, 
a  brave,  —  the  other  day  he  killed  an  abr^k.  I  will  find 
a  better  one  for  you.  I  will  find  you  one  that  is  all 
dressed  in  silk  and  silver.  I  told  you  I  would  get  you 
one,  and  so  I  will.     I'll  find  a  beauty  for  you." 

"  You  are  an  old  man,  and  see  what  you  are  saying ! " 
said  Ol^uin.     "  This  is  sinful." 

"  Sinful  ?  Where  is  the  sin  ? "  the  old  man  answered, 
with  determination.  "  Is  it  a  sin  to  look  at  a  pretty  girl  ? 
A  sin  to  stroll  with  one  ?  A  sin  to  love  one  ?  Is  it  so 
with  you  ?  No,  my  father,  it  is  not  a  sin,  but  a  salvation. 
God  has  made  you,  and  He  has  made  a  girl.  He,  my 
friend,  has  made  everything.  And  so  it  is  not  a  sin  to 
look  at  a  pretty  girl.  That's  what  she  is  for :  to  be  loved, 
and  to  be  looked  at.  That's  the  way  I  judge,  my  good 
man." 

Having  crossed  the  yard  and  entered  into  the  dark, 
cool  outhouse,  filled  with  casks,  Maryanka,  with  the  usual 


THE    COSSACKS  151 

prayer,  walked  up  to  one  of  them,  and  put  in  the  siphon. 
Vanyusha  stood  in  the  door  and  smiled,  looking  at  her. 
It  seemed  very  funny  to  him  tliat  she  wore  nothing  but  a 
shirt,  which  fitted  her  behind,  but  was  tucked  up  in  front, 
and  still  funnier  that  half-rouble  pieces  hung  down  from 
her  neck.  He  thought  that  it  was  un-Eussian,  and  that 
the  people  of  his  village  would  have  a  laugh  if  they  saw 
such  a  girl.  "  La  Jille  comme  eest  tres  hie,  for  a  change," 
he  thought,  "  I  will  say  now  to  my  master." 

"  What  are  you  gaping  for,  you  devil  ? "  suddenly  cried 
the  girl.     "  Let  me  have  your  decanter  ! " 

Having  filled  the  decanter  with  cool  red  wine,  Mar- 
yanka  handed  it  to  Vanyusha. 

"  Give  the  money  to  mother  !  "  she  said,  pushing  away 
Vanyiisha's  hand  with  the  money. 

Vanyusha  smiled. 

"  What  makes  you  so  angry,  my  dear  people  ? "  he 
said,  good-naturedly  shuffling  his  feet,  while  the  girl 
closed  the  cask. 

She  began  to  laugh. 

"  And  are  you  kind  people  ? " 

"  My  master  and  I  are  very  kind  people,"  Vanyusha 
replied,  convincingly.  "  We  are  such  kind  people  that 
wherever  we  have  lived  the  people  have  been  grateful 
to  us.     Because,  you  see,  he  is  a  nobleman." 

The  girl  stopped  and  listened. 

"  Is  he  married,  your  master  ? "  she  asked. 

"  No  !  Our  master  is  young  and  a  bachelor.  Because, 
you  see,  noblemen  can  never  marry  young,"  Vanyusha 
replied,  instructively. 

"  What  do  I  know  ?  He  is  as  fat  as  a  buffalo,  and  too 
young  to  marry !  Is  he  the  commander  of  the  whole 
lot  of  you  ? "  she  asked. 

"  My  master  is  a  yunker,  that  means,  not  yet  an  officer. 
But  he  knows  a  lot  more  than  a  general,  or  any  big  man. 
Because,  you  see,  not  only  our  colonel,  but  the  Tsar  him- 


152  THE    COSSACKS 

self  knows  him,"  Vanyusha  explained,  proudly.  "We 
are  not  like  any  other  military  trash,  but  our  master's 
father  was  a  senator.  He  had  a  thousand  souls,  or  more, 
and  they  send  us  a  thousand  roubles  at  a  time.  And 
that's  why  they  always  like  us.  Take  many  a  captain, 
and  he  has  no  money.     So  what's  the  use  ? " 

"  Go,  I  want  to  lock  up,"  the  girl  interrupted  him. 

Vanyusha  brought  the  wine,  and  he  announced  to 
Olenin  that  "  La  fille  c'cst  tres  joulie"  and  immediately 
went  away,  with  his  stupid  laugh. 


XIII. 

In  the  meantime,  they  were  beating  the  tattoo  in  the 
square.  The  people  were  returning  from  their  work. 
The  herds  were  lowing  in  the  gates,  crowding  together 
in  a  dusty,  gold-like  cloud,  and  the  girls  and  women  were 
hustling  in  the  streets  and  yards,  driving  the  cattle  to 
their  stalls. 

The  sun  had  entirely  disappeared  behind  the  distant 
snow-capped  range.  A  bluish  shadow  was  stretched  out 
over  the  earth  and  sky.  Over  the  darkling  gardens  the 
stars  were  barely  gleaming,  and  the  sounds  slowly  died, 
down  in  the  village.  After  housing  their  cattle,  the 
Cossack  women  congregated  in  the  corners  of  the  streets, 
and  sat  down  on  the  mounds,  cracking  pumpkin  seeds. 
Marydnka  joined  one  of  these  circles,  after  she  had 
milked  her  two  cows  and  the  buffalo. 

The  circle  consisted  of  a  few  women  and  girls,  and  one 
old  Cossack. 

They  were  talking  about  the  dead  abr^k.  The  Cossack 
told  the  story,  and  the  women  asked  him  questions. 

"  I  suppose  he  will  get  a  good  reward  for  it,"  said  a 
Cossack  woman. 

"  I  should  say  so.  They  say  they  will  send  him  a 
cross.  Mos^v  did  not  treat  him  right.  He  took  away 
his  gun,  but  the  authorities  in  Kizlyar  found  out  about  it." 

"  He  is  a  mean  fellow,  that  Mos^v." 

"  I  have  heard  them  say  that  Lukashka  is  here,"  said 
a  girl. 

"He    and    Nazdrka    are    on    a    spree    at    Ydmka's." 

153 


154  THE    COSSACKS 

(Yamka  was  an  unmarried,  dissolute  woman,  who  kept 
a  saloon.) 

"  They  say  they  have  drunk  half  a  bucket." 

"  Now  that  was  a  piece  of  luck  for  the  '  Saver ' !  "  said 
some  one.  "  He  is  indeed  a  '  Saver ' !  I  must  say  he  is  a 
fine  fellow  !  Awfully  clever  !  As  brave  as  can  be  !  His 
father,  Kiryak,  was  a  brave  man,  too !  And  he  is  just 
like  his  father.  Wlien  he  was  killed,  the  whole  village 
wept  for  him.  There  they  are  coming,  I  think,"  con- 
tinued the  speaker,  pointing  to  the  Cossacks  who  were 
moving  in  the  street  toward  them.  "  Ergushov  is  along 
with  them.     What  a  toper  he  is  !  " 

Lukashka,  Nazarka,  and  Ergushov,  having  emptied  half 
a  bucket,  were  walking  to  the  girls.  They  were  all  redder 
in  their  faces  than  usual ;  particularly  Cossack  Ergushov 
staggered  along  and,  laughing  loudly,  kept  punching  Na- 
zarka  in  his  sides. 

"  Wenches,  why  don't  you  sing  songs  ? "  he  shouted  to 
the  girls.     "  I  say,  sing  for  our  amusement !  " 

"  Have  you  passed  a  pleasant  day  ?  Have  you  passed 
a  pleasant  day  ? "  were  heard  the  greetings. 

"  What  singing !  Is  this  a  holiday  ? "  said  a  woman. 
"  You  are  puffed  up,  so  sing  yourself ! " 

Ergushov  laughed  out  loud,  and  punched  Nazarka. 
"  Start  a  song,  and  I  will  sing,  too.  I  am  clever  at  that, 
I  say." 

"  Well,  beauties,  are  you  asleep  ?  "  said  Nazarka.  "  We 
have  come  from  the  cordon  to  have  something  to  drink. 
And  we  have  drunk  to  Lukashka's  good  luck." 

Lukashka  walked  up  to  the  circle,  leisurely  raised  his 
lambskin  cap,  and  stopped  opposite  the  girls.  His  broad 
cheeks  and  his  neck  were  flushed.  "  He  stood  there 
and  spoke  softly  and  gravely  ;  but  in  the  deliberation  and 
gravity  of  his  movements  there  was  more  animation  and 
strength  than  in  Nazarka's  prattle  and  bustle.  He  re- 
minded one  of  a  playful  colt  which  raises  its  tail  and 


THE    COSSACKS  155 

snorts,  and  then  suddenly  stops  as  though  fastened  to  the 
ground  by  all  its  feet.  Lukashka  stood  quietly  before 
the  girls  ;  his  eyes  were  smiling ;  he  said  httle,  and  looked 
now  at  his  drunken  companions,  and  now  at  the  girls. 
When  Maryanka  came  to  the  corner,  he  raised  his  cap 
with  an  even,  leisurely  motion,  stepped  aside,  and  again 
planted  himself  in  front  of  her,  lightly  spreading  his  legs, 
thrusting  his  thumbs  into  the  belt,  and  playing  with  his 
dagger.  Maryanka  returned  his  greeting  by  a  gentle 
inclination  of  her  head,  sat  down  on  the  mound,  and  took 
some  seeds  out  of  the  bosom  of  her  shirt.  Lukashka 
looked  at  Maryanka,  without  turning  his  eyes  away  from 
her,  and,  cracking  seeds,  kept  spitting  out  the  shells. 
Everybody  grew  silent  when  Maryanka  joined  them. 

"  Well,  are  you  going  to  stay  loug  ? "  asked  a  woman, 
breaking  the  silence. 

"  Until  to-morrow  morning,"  Lukashka  answered, 
gravely. 

"  Well,  God  grant  you  a  good  advantage  ! "  said  the  old 
Cossack.  "  I  am  glad,  I  have  just  been  talking  about 
you." 

"  And  I  say  so,  too,"  said  drunken  Ergushov,  laughing. 
"  There  are  some  guests  here ! "  he  added,  pointing  to  a 
soldier  who  was  passing  by.  "  Soldiers'  brandy  is  good. 
I  like  it ! " 

"  They  have  sent  us  three  devils,"  said  a  woman. 
"  Grandfather  went  to  the  village  elder's  office,  l)ut  they 
said  that  nothing  could  be  done." 

"  Oh,  so  you  have  found  out  v/hat  woe  is ! "  said 
Ergushov. 

"  I  suppose  they  have  dirtied  up  your  house  with 
tobacco,"  said  another  woman,  "  Let  them  smoke  all  they 
want  to  in  the  yard,  but  I  won't  let  them  in  the  house. 
Even  if  the  elder  should  come,  I  would  not  let  them. 
They  will  steal,  too.  Look  at  the  elder,  that  son  of  a 
devil !  He  has  not  quartered  any  soldiers  upon  himself." 


156  THE    COSSACKS 

"  You  don't  like  them ! "  again  said  Ergushdv. 

"And  they  say  that  the  girls  have  to  make  the  beds 
for  the  soldiers,  and  fill  them  with  red  wine  and  mead," 
said  Nazarka,  spreaduig  his  legs  like  Lukashka,  and  pois- 
ing his  cap  jauntily,  too. 

Ergushov  roared  and  grasped  and  embraced  a  girl  who 
was  sitting  nearest  to  him.     "  I  tell  you,  it  is  so." 

"  Keep  off,  you  pitch ! "  screamed  the  girl.  "  I  will 
tell  my  mother." 

"  Tell  her ! "  he  cried.  "  But  really,  Nazarka  is  telling 
the  truth :  there  was  a  circular  letter  about  it,  and  he  can 
read.  That's  so."  And  he  was  trying  to  hug  another 
girl,  the  next  one  in  order. 

"  Don't  be  so  familiar,  scamp ! "  laughingly  shrieked 
ruddy,  round-faced  Ustenka,  raising  her  hand  to  box  his 
ears. 

The  Cossack  stepped  aside  and  almost  fell. 

"  And  they  say  that  a  girl  has  no  strength.  She  almost 
killed  me." 

"  You  are  regular  pitch.  The  devil  has  brouglit  you 
from  the  cordon,"  said  Ustenka,  and,  turning  away  from 
him,  snorted  out  with  a  laugh :  "  You  sleepyhead,  you 
have  missed  an  abre^k !  He  would  have  cut  your  throat, 
and  that  would  have  been  well." 

"  You  would  have  blubbered ! "  Nazarka  said,  and 
laughed. 

"  Just  watch  me  blubbering ! " 

"  You  see,  she  does  not  even  care.  Would  she  weep  ? 
Nazarka,  eh  ?  "  said  Ergushov. 

Lukashka  was  all  the  time  gazing  silently  at  Maryanka. 
His  glance  evidently  embarrassed  the  girl. 

"  Say,  Maryanka,  have  they  quartered  a  commander  on 
you  ? "  he  asked,  moving  up  to  her. 

Maryanka,  as  usual,  did  not  answer  at  once,  and  leisurely 
lifted  her  eyes  on  the  Cossacks,  Lukashka's  eyes  were 
smiling,  as  though  something  special,  quite  different  from 


THE    COSSACKS  157 

the  conversation,  were  taking  place  between  him  and  the 
girl. 

"  Yes,  they  are  all  right,  for  they  have  two  cabins,"  said 
an  old  woman  for  Maryauka,  "  but  at  Fomushkiu's  they 
have  lodged  their  commander,  and  they  say  he  has  so 
filled  up  the  room  with  his  things  that  the  Fomushkins 
have  no  place  left.  Who  has  ever  heard  such  a  thing  ? 
They  have  driven  a  whole  horde  of  them  into  the  village  ! 
What  is  to  be  done  ? "  she  said.  "  And  they  will  act  here 
worse  than  the  black  plague  !  " 

"  They  say  they  are  going  to  build  a  bridge  across  the 
T(5rek,"  said  one  of  the  girls. 

"And  they  told  me,"  said  Nazarka,  walking  up  to 
Ustenka,  "  that  they  will  dig  a  ditch  to  put  the  girls  in, 
because  they  do  not  love  young  fellows."  And  again  he 
made  his  favourite  bow,  at  which  all  laughed,  and  Ergu- 
shdv  immediately  started  to  hug  an  old  woman,  passing 
by  Maryanka,  who  was  next  in  order. 

"  Why  don't  you  hug  Maryanka  ?  Take  them  all  in 
order ! "  said  Nazarka. 

"No,  my  old  woman  is  sweeter,"  cried  the  Cossack, 
kissing  the  struggHng  woman. 

"  He  will  choke  me  to  death  ! "  she  cried,  laughing. 

The  even  tramp  of  steps  at  the  end  of  the  street  inter- 
rupted the  laughter.  Three  soldiers,  in  overcoats,  with 
guns  across  their  shoulders,  were  keeping  step,  as  they 
walked  to  relieve  the  guard  at  the  company's  chest. 

The  corporal,  an  old  bachelor,  looked  angrily  at  the 
Cossacks,  and  led  the  soldiers  in  such  a  way  that  Lu- 
kashka  and  Nazarka,  who  were  standing  in  the  road,  should 
be  obhged  to  step  aside.  Nazarka  moved  away,  but 
Lukashka '  only  blinked  and  turned  his  head  and  broad 
back,  and  did  not  stir. 

"People  are  standing  here,  so  you  walk  around,"  he 
said,  looking  askance,  and  contemptuously  shaking  his 
head  to  the  soldiers. 


158  THE    COSSACKS 

The  soldiers  passed  by  in  silence,  keeping  step  in  the 
dusty  road. 

Maryanka  laughed,  and  so  did  all  the  girls  after 
her. 

"  What  gallant  lads  ! "  said  Nazarka.  "  Just  like  long- 
skirted  chanters  ! "  And  he  marched  down  the  street,  in 
order  to  mock  them. 

They  all  burst  out  laughing  again. 

Lukashka  slowly  walked  up  to  Maryanka. 

"  Where  is  your  officer  stationed  ? "  he  asked. 

Maryanka  thought  awhile. 

"  We  gave  them  the  new  cabin,"  she  said. 

"  Is  he  old  or  young  ? "  asked  Lukashka,  sitting  down 
near  her. 

"  Do  you  svippose  I  have  asked  him  ? "  answered  the 
girl.  "  I  went  to  fetch  some  red  wine  for  him,  and  saw 
him  through  the  window  with  Uncle  Eroshka,  —  he  is  a 
red-haired  fellow.  Tliey  have  brought  a  whole  cartload 
of  things." 

And  she  lowered  her  eyes. 

"I  am  so  glad  that  I  had  a  chance  to  get  leave  of 
absence  from  the  cordon  ! "  said  Lukashka,  moving  up 
nearer  to  the  girl  on  the  mound,  and  all  the  time  watch- 
ing her  eyes. 

"  Well,  how  long  are  you  going  to  stay  ? "  asked 
Maryanka,  sliglitly  smiling. 

"  Till  to-morrow  morning.  Give  me  some  seeds  ! "  he 
added,  stretching  out  his  hand. 

Maryanka  was  all  smiles,  and  opened  the  collar  of  her 
shirt. 

"  Don't  take  them  all,"  she  said. 

"  Truly,  I  was  very  lonely  without  you,  upon  my  word," 
Lukashka  said,  calmly,  in  a  quiet  whisper,  taking  the 
seeds  out  of  the  bosom  of  the  girl's  shirt ;  and,  bending 
still  closer  to  her,  he  began  to  tell  her  something  in  &, 
whisper,  with  smiling  eyes. 


THE    COSSACKS  159 

"  I  won't  come,  that's  all,"  Maryanka  suddenly  ex- 
claimed, turning  away  from  him. 

"  Truly  —  I  wanted  to  tell  you  something,"  whispered 
Lukashka.     "  Upon  my  word  !     Do  come,  Maryanka  ! " 

Maryanka  shook  her  head  in  refusal,  but  smiling. 

"  Sister  Maryanka !  O  sister !  Mother  is  calling  you 
to  supper,"  cried  Maryanka' s  little  brother,  running  up  to 
the  women. 

"  I'll  be  there  in  a  minute,"  answered  the  girl.  "  Go, 
my  dear,  go  by  yourself !     I  am  coming." 

Lukashka  rose  and  raised  his  hat. 

"  I  guess  I  had  better  go  home  myself,"  he  said,  pre- 
tending to  be  indifferent,  but  with  difficulty  repressing  a 
smile.     He  disappeared  around  the  corner  of  the  house. 

In  the  meantime,  night  had  entirely  descended  upon 
the  village.  The  bright  stars  were  gleaming  in  the  dark 
heaven.  The  streets  were  dark  and  deserted.  Nazarka 
remained  with  the  women  on  the  mound,  and  their 
laughter  could  be  heard ;  but  Lukashka,  having  softly 
walked  away  from  the  girls,  crouched  like  a  cat,  and 
suddenly,  holding  his  dangling  dagger,  began  to  run, 
noiselessly,  not  to  his  house,  but  in  the  direction  of  the 
ensign's  cabin.  Having  run  along  two  streets  and  turned 
into  a  lane,  he  lifted  his  mantle  and  seated  himself  on  the 
ground  in  the  shadow  of  a  fence. 

"  Just  look  at  the  ensign's  daughter ! "  he  thought  of 
Maryanka.  "  She  will  not  have  any  fun,  the  devil  !  My 
time  will  come." 

The  steps  of  an  approaching  woman  distracted  his 
thoughts.  He  began  to  listen  and  to  smile  to  himself. 
Maryanka,  with  drooping  head,  was  walking  with  rapid 
and  even  steps  straight  toward  him,  striking  with  a  stick 
against  the  pickets  of  a  fence.  Lukashka  rose  a  little. 
Maryanka  was  startled,  and  stopped. 

"  Accursed  devil !  You  liave  frightened  me.  You  did 
not  go  home,"  she  said,  laughing  loud. 


160  THE   COSSACKS 

Lukashka  embraced  the  girl  with  one  hand,  and  with 
the  other  he  touched  her  face. 

"  I  wanted  to  tell  you  —  upon  my  word  ! "  his  voice  was 
quivering  and  broken. 

"  What  talk  have  you  found  for  the  night  ? "  answered 
Maryanka.  "  Mother  is  waiting  for  me,  and  you  had 
better  go  to  your  mistress." 

Having  freed  herself  from  his  arms,  she  ran  a  few  steps 
ahead.  When  she  reached  the  fence  of  her  yard,  she 
stopped  and  turned  to  the  Cossack  who  was  running 
by  her  side,  still  persuading  her  to  stay  an  hour  with 
him. 

"  Well,  what  is  it  you  wanted  to  say,  you  night-bird  ? " 
and  she  laughed  again. 

"Do  not  make  fun  of  me,  Maryanka  !  Upon  my  word  ! 
What  if  I  have  a  mistress  ?  The  devil  take  her !  You 
just  say  the  word,  and  I  will  love  you  so  !  I  will  do  any- 
thing you  want  me  to.  Do  you  hear  ? "  (He  jingled  the 
money  in  his  pocket.)  "  Now  we  will  have  a  fine  time. 
Other  people  are  enjoying  themselves,  but  how  about  me  ? 
I  get  no  pleasure  from  you,  Maryanushka ! " 

The  girl  did  not  reply.  She  stood  before  him,  and, 
with  the  rapid  motion  of  her  fingers,  broke  the  stick  into 
small  pieces. 

Lukashka  suddenly  clinched  his  fists  and  set  his  teeth. 

"  Why  should  I  be  waiting  aU  the  time  ?  Do  I  not 
love  you,  my  dear  ?  Do  anything  you  please  with  me  ! " 
he  suddenly  said,  frowning  angrily,  and  seizing  both  her 
hands. 

Maryanka  did  not  change  the  calm  expression  of  her 
countenance  and  voice. 

"  Don't  be  so  bold,  Lukashka,  but  hsten  to  me ! "  she 
answered,  without  tearing  her  hands  away,  but  pushing 
him  aside.  "  Of  course,  I  am  a  girl,  but  you  hsten  to  me  ! 
I  cannot  do  as  I  please,  but  if  you  love  me,  I  will  tell  you 
something.    You  let  my  hands  go,  and  I  will  tell  you.     I 


THE    COSSACKS  161 

will  marry  you,  but  you  will  not  live  to  see  me  do  foolish 
things,"  said  Maryanka,  without  turning  her  face  away. 

"  As  to  marrying,  —  it  is  not  in  my  power.  Maryanka, 
I  want  you  to  love  me,"  said  Lukashka,  suddenly  chang- 
ing his  gloomy  and  ferocious  manner  to  one  of  gentleness, 
submission,  and  tenderness.  He  smiled,  and  looked  her 
straight  in  the  eyes. 

Maryanka  pressed  close  to  him  and  gave  him  a  smack- 
ing kiss  on  his  hps. 

"  My  darling  !  "  she  whispered,  passionately  embracing 
him.  Then,  suddenly  tearing  herself  away,  she  ran,  and, 
without  turning  around,  walked  through  the  gate  of  her 
house. 

Maryanka  did  not  stop,  iu  spite  of  the  Cossack's  request 
to  wait  another  minute,  and  to  hear  what  he  had  to  say. 

"  Go  on  !  They  will  see  us !  "  she  said.  "  Look  there, 
I  think  I  see  the  devil  of  a  lodger  walking  in  the  yard." 

"  The  ensign's  daughter,"  Lukashka  thought  to  himself, 
"  will  marry  me !  Marrying  is  all  right,  but  you  love 
me!" 

He  found  Nazarka  at  Yamka's.  After  celebrating 
together,  he  went  to  Dunayka  and,  in  spite  of  her  in- 
fidehty,  remained  there  over  night. 


XIV. 

Olenin  was  actually  in  the  yard  when  Maryanka  came 
in  through  the  gate,  and  he  heard  her  say,  "  The  devil  of 
a  lodger  is  walking."  All  that  evening  he  had  passed 
with  Uncle  Eroshka  on  the  porch  of  his  new  lodging. 
He  had  ordered  a  table,  a  samovar,  wine,  a  burning 
candle  to  be  brought  out,  and,  while  drinking  his  tea  and 
smoking  a  cigar,  he  listened  to  the  stories  of  the  old  man, 
who  was  seated  at  his  feet  on  the  steps. 

Though  the  air  was  calm,  the  candle  guttered,  and  the 
light  flickered  in  all  directions,  illuminating  now  the  post 
of  the  porch,  now  the  table  and  dishes,  now  the  white 
clipped  head  of  the  old  man.  Night-moths  flitted  about 
and,  shedding  the  dust  from  their  wings,  dashed  against 
the  table  and  the  glasses,  or  flew  into  the  candle-light,  or 
disappeared  in  the  darkness  of  the  air,  beyond  the  illu- 
minated circle. 

01(5nin  and  Eroshka  emptied  together  five  bottles  of 
red  wine.  Eroshka  always  filled  the  glasses,  and,  giving 
one  to  Olenin,  drank  to  his  health,  and  talked  without 
cessation.  He  told  him  about  the  former  life  of  the  Cos- 
sacks, about  his  father,  "  The  Broad,"  who  used  to  carry 
on  his  shoulders  a  boar's  carcass  weighing  four  hundred 
pounds,  and  to  drink  two  buckets  of  wine  at  one  sitting. 
He  told  of  his  own  young  days,  and  of  his  friend  Girchik, 
with  whom  he  used  to  haul  felt  mantles  across  the  T^rek, 
during  the  black  plague.  He  told  him  of  one  of  his 
hunts  when  he  killed  two  stags  in  one  morning.  He  told 
him  of  his  mistress  who  used  to  run  after  him  at  night  to 

162 


THE    COSSACKS  163 

the  cordon.  And  he  told  all  this  so  eloquently  and  pic- 
turesquely that  Oli^nin  did  not  notice  how  the  time  was 
passing. 

"  That's  the  way  it  is,  my  father,"  he  said.  "  You  did  not 
know  me  during  my  golden  time,  or  I  would  have  shown 
you  everything.  To-day  Eroshka  has  licked  the  pitcher, 
but  formerly  Eroshka's  fame  thundered  through  the  army. 
Who  had  the  best  horse  ?  Who  had  a  Gurda  sabre  ?  To 
whom  did  they  go  to  get  a  drink,  or  have  a  spree  ? 
Who  was  sent  into  the  mountains  to  kill  Akhm^t-khan  ? 
Always  Eroshka !  Whom  did  the  girls  love  ?  Always 
Eroshka,  because  I  was  a  genuine  brave.  I  was  a  toper 
and  thief,  and  used  to  steal  the  herds  in  the  mountains, 
and  I  was  a  singer,  too :  I  could  do  anything.  There  are 
no  such  Cossacks  nowadays.  It  makes  you  feel  bad  to 
look  at  them.  They  are  no  taller  than  this"  (Eroshka 
pointed  to  about  three  feet  from  the  ground)  "  when  they 
put  on  some  stupid  boots,  and  do  nothing  but  look  at 
them  in  glee.  Or  they  puff  themselves  up  with  wine ; 
and  they  do  not  drink  like  men,  but  God  knows  how. 
And  who  was  I  ?  I  was  Eroshka  the  thief ;  I  was 
known  not  only  in  the  villages,  but  in  the  mountains  as 
well.  I  had  chums  among  princes.  I  was  friendly  with 
everybody.  Whether  Tartar,  or  Armenian,  or  soldier,  or 
officer,  —  it  was  all  the  same  to  me,  so  long  as  he  was  a 
tippler.  '  You,'  he  says,  '  must  cleanse  yourself  from  foul 
contact :  do  not  drink  with  the  soldiers,  do  not  eat  with 
the  Tartars  ! ' " 

"  Who  says  that  ? "  asked  Ol^nin. 

"Our  chanters  say  so.  But  just  listen  to  a  Tartar 
mullah  or  kadi.  He  says,  '  You  infidel  Giaours,  why  do 
you  eat  pork  ? '  So  everybody  keeps  his  own  law.  But, 
in  my  opinion,  it  is  all  one.  God  has  made  everything  for 
man  to  enjoy.  There  is  no  sin  in  anything.  Take  an 
example  from  a  wild  animal.  He  hves  in  the  Tartar 
reeds  as  well  as  in  ours.     Wherever  he  goes  is  his  home. 


164  THE   COSSACKS 

What  God  has  given  him,  he  devours.  And  ours  say 
that  we  shall  have  to  lick  the  frying-pans  for  that  ?  But 
I  think  it  is  all  false,"  he  added,  after  a  silence. 

"  What  is  false  ? "  asked  Ol^nin. 

"  What  the  chanters  say.  In  Ch^rvlenaya,  my  father, 
the  army  elder  was  a  chum  of  mine.  He  was  a  fine 
fellow,  just  like  me.  They  killed  him  in  the  Chechnya 
country.  He  used  to  say  that  the  chanters  got  that  all 
out  of  their  own  heads.  '  You  give  up  the  ghost,'  he 
would  say,  '  and  the  grass  will  gxow  out  on  your  httle 
mound,  and  that  is  all.' "  The  old  man  laughed.  "  He 
was  a  desperate  fellow." 

"  How  old  are  you  ?  "  asked  Ol^nin. 

"  God  knows !  Seventy  or  more.  When  you  had  a 
Tsaritsa,  I  was  a  grown-up  lad.  So  figure  out  how  much 
it  is  !     Will  that  make  seventy  ?  " 

"  Yes.     But  you  are  still  a  fine  fellow." 

"  Well,  thank  the  Lord,  I  am  well,  entirely  well ;  only 
a  hag  of  a  woman  has  ruined  me  —  " 

"  How  so  ? " 

"  Just  ruined  me  —  " 

"  When  you  die,  will  the  grass  grow  over  you  ?"  Ol^nin 
repeated  his  words. 

Eroshka  evidently  did  not  wish  to  elucidate  his  mean- 
ing.    He  kept  silent  for  a  moment. 

"  And  what  did  you  think  ?  Drink  ! "  he  cried,  smiling, 
and  giving  him  a  glass  of  wine. 


XV. 

"  So,  what  was  I  saying  ?  "  he  continued,  trying  to  col- 
lect  his  thoughts.  "  That's  the  kind  of  man  I  am !  I 
am  a  hunter.  There  is  no  other  hunter  in  the  whole 
army  to  match  me.  I  will  find  and  show  to  you  every 
kind  of  animal,  and  every  kind  of  hird ;  I  know  where 
everything  is.  I  have  dogs,  and  two  guns,  and  nets, 
and  a  snare,  and  a  hawk,  —  I  have  everything,  thank 
God !  If  you  are  a  genuine  hunter,  and  not  given  to 
boasting,  I  will  show  you  everything.  This  is  what  I 
am  !  If  I  find  a  track,  I  at  once  know  what  animal  it 
belongs  to ;  and  I  know  where  it  lies  down,  and  where  it 
comes  to  drink,  or  to  wallow.  I  sit  the  whole  night  on 
a  scaffolding  and  watch,  —  what's  the  use  of  staying  at 
home !  I  would  only  commit  a  sin,  and  puff  myself  up 
with  drink.  And  the  women  come  around  and  prattle, 
and  the  children  scream :  it  is  enough  to  make  one  crazy. 
So  I  go  out  at  twilight,  choose  a  nice  place,  press  down 
the  reeds,  and  sit  down,  good  fellow  that  I  am,  and  wait 
for  things  to  happen.  I  know  everything  that  is  going 
on  in  the  woods.  I  look  at  the  sky,  and  see  the  stars 
moving;  and  I  look  at  them  to  find  out  the  time.  I 
look  around,  —  the  forest  is  rustling,  and  I  am  waiting 
for  something  to  crash,  and  for  a  wild  boar  to  come  to  his 
wallow.  I  hear  the  squeaking  of  young  eagles,  and  the 
noises  of  the  cocks  and  geese  in  the  village.  If  it  is 
the  geese,  —  it  is  not  midnight  yet.  And  I  know  all 
that.  And  if  I  hear  the  report  of  a  gun  somewhere  in  the 
distance,  I  think  who  has  been  shooting.     Is  it  a  Cossack 

165 


166  THE    COSSACKS 

who  has  been  lying  in  wait  for  an  animal,  just  as  I  am 
lying  ?  And  has  he  killed  hira,  or  has  he  only  wounded 
him,  and  will  the  beast  go  through  the  reeds,  leaving  a 
track  of  blood,  without  being  found  ?  I  do  not  like 
that !  Oh,  I  do  not  like  that !  Why  has  he  ruined 
an  animal  ?  Fool !  Fool !  Or  I  think,  '  Maybe  an 
abr^k  has  killed  some  silly  young  Cossack ! '  All  that 
passes  through  my  mind.  Once  I  was  sitting  near  the 
water,  and  I  saw  a  cradle  carried  down  the  river.  It 
was  in  good  condition,  only  the  edge  was  broken  off. 
Then  the  thought  came  to  me,  whose  cradle  it  was. 
And  I  thought  your  devilish  soldiers  must  have  gone 
to  some  native  village,  where  they  raped  the  Chechen 
women,  and  one  devil  gi-abbed  a  baby  by  the  legs, 
and  banged  it  against  the  corner  of  the  house.  Don't 
they  do  such  things  ?  Oh,  some  people  have  no  souls ! 
And  then  all  kinds  of  thoughts  came  to  me,  and  I  felt 
sorry  for  them.  It  occurred  to  me  that  they  might  have 
thrown  away  the  cradle,  and  driven  the  woman  off,  and 
burnt  the  house,  and  that  the  Chechen  brave  picked  up 
his  musket  and  went  out  ravaging  on  our  side.  And  so 
I  sit  and  think.  And  when  I  hear  a  herd  in  the  thicket, 
my  heart  goes  pit-a-pat.  Come  up,  dear  ones  !  And  I  am 
afraid  they  will  scent  me,  and  I  sit  witliout  stirring,  and 
my  heart  is  in  a  flutter,  and  it  almost  lifts  me  up  bodily. 
Last  spring  a  fine  herd  came  up,  and  it  looked  black. 
'  To  the  Father  and  the  Son  — '  and  I  was  about  to  shoot. 
Then  she  grunted  at  her  young  ones,  as  much  as  to  say, 
'  Look  out,  children,  a  man  is  sitting  there,'  and  they 
crashed  through  the  brush.  And  there  she  had  been  so 
close  to  me  that  I  almost  could  have  bitten  into  her." 

"  How  did  the  sow  tell  her  young  ones  that  a  man  was 
sitting  there  ? "  asked  Olenin. 

"  What  did  you  think  ?  Did  you  think  that  the  beasts 
are  stupid  ?  No,  they  are  more  intelligent  than  man, 
even  though  it  be  a  boar.     They  know  everything.     Let 


THE    COSSACKS  167 

as  take  this  example :  a  man  walks  along  an  animal's 
trail  and  does  not  notice  it,  but  when  a  boar  strikes  your 
trail,  he  scents  you  at  once,  and  off  he  makes ;  evidently 
he  has  sense  enough  to  discover  your  scent  while  you  can- 
not even  perceive  your  own.  And  why  not  ?  You  want 
to  kill  him,  but  he  wants  to  disport  himself  in  the  woods. 
You  have  your  law,  and  he  has  his.  He  is  a  boar,  but  he 
is  not  worse  than  you  ;  he  is  God's  creature,  too.  Pshaw  ! 
Man  is  stupid,  stupid,  stupid ! ''  The  old  man  repeated 
these  words  several  times,  and,  lowering  his  head,  fell  to 
musing. 

OMnin,  too,  was  pensive,  and,  walking  down  the  steps, 
silently  paced  the  yard,  with  liis  arms  behind  his  back. 

When  Erdshka  awoke  from  his  reverie,  he  raised  his 
head  and  began  to  gaze  steadily  at  the  night-moths  which 
were  circling  around  the  quivering  candle-light  and  falling 
into  it. 

"  Fool !  Fool ! "  he  said.  "  Whither  do  you  fly  ?  Fool ! 
Fool ! "  He  raised  himself  and  began  to  drive  off  the 
moths  with  his  stout  fingers. 

"  You  will  burn  yourself,  little  fool !  Fly  thither,  here 
is  room  enough,"  he  uttered,  in  a  tender  voice,  trying  care- 
fully to  catch  it  by  its  wings  with  his  stout  fingers,  and 
to  liberate  it  again.  •'  You  are  destroying  yourself,  and  I 
am  sorry  for  you." 

He  remained  sitting  for  a  long  time,  and  drinking  from 
the  bottle.  But  Olenin  continued  to  pace  the  yard. 
Suddenly  he  was  attracted  by  a  whisper  on  the  other 
side  of  the  gate.  Involuntarily  holding  his  breath,  he 
could  make  out  a  woman's  laugh,  a  man's  voice,  and  the 
sound  of  a  kiss.  He  purposely  shuffled  his  feet  on 
the  grass,  and  walked  over  to  the  other  side  of  the  yard. 
But  a  little  while  later  the  wicker  fence  creaked.  A 
Cossack,  in  a  dark  mantle  and  white  lambskin  cap  (it 
was  Lukashka),  walked  along  the  fence,  and  a  tall  woman 
in  a  white  kerchief  passed  by  OMnin. 


168  THE    COSSACKS 

"  I  have  nothing  to  do  with  you,  and  you  nothing  with 
me,"  Maryanka's  firm  gait  seemed  to  say.  He  followed 
her  with  his  eyes  up  to  the  steps  of  the  cabin,  and  saw 
her  through  the  window  taking  off  her  kerchief  and  sitting 
down  on  a  bench.  And  suddenly  the  feeling  of  pining,  of 
indistinct  desires  and  hopes,  and  of  a  certain  envy  toward 
some  one  took  possession  of  the  young  man's  soul. 

The  last  lights  in  the  cabins  were  extinguished.  The 
last  sounds  died  down  in  the  village.  And  the  wicker 
fences,  and  the  white  cattle  in  the  yards,  and  the  thatches 
of  the  houses,  and  the  slender  poplars,  —  everything 
seemed  to  sleep  a  healthy,  tranquil  sleep  after  its  hard 
labours.  Only  the  uninterrupted  dinning  of  the  frogs 
reached  the  intent  ear  from  the  moist  places  in  the  dis- 
tance. The  stars  were  less  abundant  in  the  east,  and 
seemed  to  melt  away  in  the  growing  light.  Overhead 
they  receded  farther  and  farther,  and  became  ever  more 
abundant. 

The  old  man  had  fallen  asleep,  leaning  on  his  arm.  A 
cock  crowed  in  the  yard  across  the  street.  But  Ol^nin 
continued  to  walk,  lost  in  thought.  He  walked  up  to 
the  fence  and  began  to  listen.  Some  young  Cossacks 
were  tuning  a  merry  song,  and  above  them  rose  especially 
one  shrill,  youthful  voice. 

"  Do  you  know  who  it  is  that  is  singing  there  ? "  said 
the  old  man,  upon  awaking.  "  It  is  Lukashka  the  Brave. 
He  has  killed  a  Chechen,  and  so  he  is  celebrating.  And 
what  is  he  rejoicing  over,  fool  ? " 

"  Have  you  killed  any  people  ?  "  asked  Olenin. 

The  old  man  suddenly  raised  himself  on  both  elbows 
and  moved  his  face  close  to  Ol^uin's. 

"  Devil ! "  he  cried  to  him.  "  Why  do  you  ask  ?  One 
must  not  speak  of  this.  It  is  a  very  clever  thing  to  kill  a 
man.  Oh,  so  clever!  Good-bye,  my  father,  I  have  had 
enough  to  eat  and  to  drink,"  he  said,  rising.  "  Shall  I 
eome  to-morrow  to  take  you  out  hunting  ? " 


THE    COSSACKS  169 

"  Do  come  ! " 

"  Be  sure  and  get  up  early,  or  there  will  be  a  fine." 

"  Don't  be  afraid  !  I  will  get  up  before  you,"  answered 
Ol^nin. 

The  old  man  went  away.  The  song  was  finished. 
Footsteps  and  merry  talking  could  be  heard.  A  little 
later  the  singing  began  once  more,  but  farther  away,  and 
Eroshka's  loud  voice  joined  the  former  voices. 

"  What  people  !  Wliat  a  life  ! "  thought  Ol^nin,  sigh- 
ing, and  alone  returned  to  his  room. 


XVI. 

Uncle  Eroshka  was  a  lonely  Cossack,  out  of  service. 
His  wife  had  become  an  Orthodox  Christian  twenty  years 
before,  and,  having  run  away  from  him,  had  married  a 
Russian  sergeant.  He  had  no  children.  It  was  not  an 
idle  boast,  when  he  said  that  he  had  been  the  bravest 
man  in  the  village.  He  had  been  known  throughout  the 
army  for  his  old-fashioned  deeds  of  bravery.  He  had 
upon  his  conscience  more  than  one  murder  of  Chechens 
and  Russians.  He  used  to  go  to  the  mountains,  had 
stolen  from  the  Russians,  and  had  been  twice  in  jail. 
The  greater  part  of  his  Hfe  he  passed  in  hunting  and  in 
the  forest,  where,  for  days  at  a  time,  he  ate  nothing  but  a 
piece  of  bread,  and  drank  nothing  l)ut  water.  But  when 
he  returned  to  the  village,  he  went  on  a  spree  from  the 
morning  to  the  evening. 

After  returning  home  from  01(^uin  he  went  to  sleep  for 
about  two  hours.  He  awoke  long  before  daybreak,  and 
lay  on  his  bed  and  tried  to  form  an  opinion  of  the  man 
whose  acquaintance  he  had  made  the  evening  before.  He 
was  very  much  pleased  with  Olenin's  simplicity  (which 
simpHcity  consisted  in  letting  him  have  all  the  wine  he 
wanted).  And  he  was  pleased  with  Ol^nin  himself.  He 
was  wondering  why  all  the  Russians  were  simple  and 
rich,  and  why  they  knew  nothing,  and  yet  were  learned 
men.  He  Wcis  meditating  over  these  questions,  and  also 
considering  wliat  to  ask  of  Olt^nin. 

Uncle  Erdshka's  cabin  was   quite  large  and  not  old ; 

170 


THE    COSSACKS  171 

but  the  absence  of  a  woman  was  visible  in  everything. 
In  spite  of  the  usual  care  which  the  Cossacks  bestow  upon 
their  house,  his  best  room  was  filthy  and  in  the  greatest 
disorder.  On  the  table  were  thrown  his  blood-stained 
coat,  one  half  of  a  milk  cake,  and  next  to  it  a  plucked 
and  dismembered  jackdaw  to  feed  his  hawk  with.  On 
the  benches  lay  scattered  his  buckskin  shoes,  a  gun,  a 
dagger,  a  pouch,  wet  clothes,  and  rags.  In  the  corner,  in 
a  tub  of  dirty,  ill-smelling  water,  another  pair  of  buckskins 
was  soaking.  On  the  floor  were  flung  a  net  and  a  few 
dead  pheasants  ;  and  near  the  table  promenaded  a  chicken 
with  one  of  its  legs  fettered,  and  tapping  on  the  dirty 
floor.  In  the  cold  oven  stood  a  clay  pot  tilled  with  some 
kind  of  a  milky  liquid.  On  the  oven  screamed  a  falcon, 
which  tried  to  tear  itself  away  from  its  cord,  and  a 
moulting  hawk  sat  solemnly  on  the  edge,  looking  askance 
at  the  chicken,  and  now  and  then  bending  its  head  from 
right  to  left.  Uncle  Eroshka  himself  lay  on  his  back  on 
a  bed  which  had  been  built  in  between  the  oven  and  the 
wall ;  he  wore  nothing  but  a  shirt,  and,  resting  his  mus- 
cular legs  on  the  oven,  was  picking  with  his  stout  fingers 
the  scabs  on  his  hands  which  had  been  scratched  up  by 
the  hawk,  for  he  was  in  the  habit^  of  handling  him  with- 
out gloves.  The  air  of  the  whole  room,  but  especially  in 
the  neighbourhood  of  the  old  man,  was  saturated  by  that 
strong  but  disagreeable  and  mixed  odour  which  always 
accompanied  him. 

"  Uyde-via  "  (that  is,  at  home),  "  uncle  ? "  He  heard  in 
the  window  a  shrill  voice  which  he  at  once  recognized  as 
belonging  to  his  neighbour  Lukashka. 

"  Uyde,  uyde,  uyde  !  At  home,  come  in  !  "  cried  the  old 
man.  "  Neighbour  Marka,  Luka  Marka,  what  brings  you 
to  uncle  ?     Are  you  going  back  to  the  cordon  ? " 

The  hawk  was  startled  by  his  master's  voice,  and 
flapped  its  wings,  tugging  at  its  fetters. 

The  old  man  was  fond  of  Lukashka,  and  he  excluded 


172  THE    COSSACKS 

him  alone  from  the  contempt  which  he  felt  for  the  whole 
young  generation  of  Cossacks.  Besides,  Lukashka  and 
his  mother,  heing  his  neighbours,  frequently  gave  him 
wine,  boiled  cream,  and  other  domestic  products,  which 
Erdshka  did  not  possess.  Uncle  Erdshka,  who  was  all 
his  life  carried  away  by  one  thing  or  another,  always  gave 
a  practical  explanation  to  his  impulses :  "  Well  ?  They 
are  people  of  means,"  he  said  to  himself.  "  I  will  bring 
them  some  venison  or  a  hen,  and  they  will  not  forget 
uncle :  they  will  bring  him  a  pie  or  cakes  now  and 
then." 

"  Good  morning,  Marka !  I  am  glad  to  see  you,"  the 
old  man  cried,  merrily,  and,  with  a  rapid  motion  throwing 
down  his  bare  legs  from  the  bed,  jumped  up,  made  two  or 
three  steps  over  the  creaking  floor,  looked  at  his  bandy 
legs,  and  suddenly  found  them  very  funny;  he  smiled, 
gave  one  stamp  with  his  bare  heel,  and  then  a  second 
stamp,  and  struck  an  attitude. 

"  Did  I  do  it  smartly  ? "  he  asked,  his  small  eyes 
sparkling  with  delight. 

Lukashka  barely  smiled. 

"  Are  you  going  back  to  the  cordon  ? "  the  old  man 
asked. 

"  I  have  brought  you  some  red  wine  which  I  had 
promised  you  at  the  cordon." 

"  Christ  save  you ! "  said  the  old  man ;  he  picked  up 
his  wide  trousers  and  half-coat,  put  them  on,  girded  him- 
self with  a  strap,  poured  some  water  from  a  clay  pot  on 
his  hands,  wiped  them  against  some  old  trousers,  with  a 
piece  of  a  comb  straightened  out  his  beard,  and  stood  up 
in  front  of  Lukashka.     "  I  am  ready,"  he  said. 

Lukashka  took  a  wine-glass,  wiped  it,  filled  it  with 
wine,  and,  sitting  down  on  a  bench,  offered  it  to  the  old 
man. 

"  To  your  health  !  To  the  Father  and  the  Son  ! "  said 
the  old  man,  with  solemnity  receiving  the  wine.    "  May  all 


THE    COSSACKS  173 

your  wishes  be  fulfilled  !    May  you  be  a  brave,  and  earn  a 


cross ! 

Lukashka,  too,  uttered  a  prayer,  drank  his  wine,  and 
put  the  glass  on  the  table.  The  old  man  rose,  brought  a 
dried  fish,  put  it  on  the  threshold,  broke  it  with  a  stick,  so 
as  to  soften  it,  and,  laying  it  with  his  shrivelled  hands  on 
his  one  blue  plate,  placed  it  on  the  table. 

"  I  have  everything,  even  a  lunch,  thank  God  !  "  he  said, 
proudly.  "  Well,  how  is  it  with  Mos^v  ? "  the  old  man 
asked. 

Lukashka  told  him  how  the  under-oflficer  had  taken 
away  his  gun,  apparently  trying  to  get  the  old  man's 
opinion  of  the  matter. 

"  Don't  stand  out  for  the  gun,"  said  the  old  man.  "  If 
you  will  not  give  the  gun,  you  will  not  get  a  reward." 

"  But,  uncle !  What  reward  can  there  be  for  an  un- 
mounted Cossack  ?  And  it  was  a  fine  gun,  a  Crimean 
one,  and  it  is  worth  eighty  roubles." 

"  Oh,  let  it  go !  I  once  had  a  quarrel  with  the  captain  : 
he  wanted  my  horse.  '  Give  me  your  horse,'  he  said,  *  and 
I  will  recommend  you  for  an  ensign.'  I  did  not  give  it 
to  him,  and  so  nothing  came  of  it." 

"  But  here,  uncle !  I  shall  have  to  buy  a  horse,  and 
they  say  I  can't  get  one  across  the  river  for  less  than  fifty 
roubles.     Mother  has  not  yet  sold  her  wine." 

"  Ah,  we  did  not  worry  about  such  matters  ! "  said  the 
old  man.  "  When  Uncle  Eroshka  was  of  your  age,  he  stole 
whole  herds  from  the  Nogays,  and  drove  them  across  the 
Terek.  Many  a  time  I  swapped  a  first-class  horse  for  a 
bottle  of  brandy  or  for  a  felt  mantle." 

"  Why  did  you  give  it  so  cheap  ? "  said  Lukashka. 

"  Fool,  fool,  Marka ! "  the  old  man  said,  contemptu- 
ously. "  How  could  it  be  otherwise  ?  That  is  what  you 
are  stealing  for,  —  not  to  be  stingy.  I  suppose  you  people 
have  not  even  seen  how  horses  are  driven.  Why  don't 
you  talk  ? " 


174 


THE    COSSACKS 


"  What  shall  I  say,  uncle  ?  "  said  Lukashka.  "  We  are 
evidently  a  different  lot." 

"  Fool,  fool,  Marka  !  A  different  lot !  "  answered  the 
old  man,  mocking  the  young  Cossack.  "  At  your  age  I  was 
no  such  Cossack." 

"  How  was  it  ? "  asked  Lukashka. 

The  old  man  contemptuously  shook  his  head. 

"  Uncle  P]r6shka  was  simple,  he  was  not  stingy.  And 
so  the  whole  Chechnya  were  ray  friends.  If  a  chum  of 
mine  came  to  see  me,  I  filled  him  full  of  brandy,  calmed 
him  down,  and  put  him  to  bed  with  me ;  and  whenever 
I  called  on  him  I  took  some  candy  to  him  for  a  present. 
That  is  the  way  people  used  to  act,  and  not  as  now ;  the 
only  amusement  young  chaps  have  is  to  crack  seeds,  and 
spit  out  the  shells,"  the  old  man  concluded,  contemptu- 
ously, imitating  the  way  the  Cossacks  of  the  present  time 
crack  seeds  and  spit  out  the  shells. 

"  I  know  that,"  said  Lukashka.     "  It  is  so  ! " 

"  If  you  want  to  be  a  fine  fellow,  you  must  be  a  brave, 
and  not  a  peasant.  And  it  is  only  a  peasant  that  buys 
a  horse  by  counting  out  the  money,  and  taking  the  horse 
for  it." 

They  were  silent. 

"  But  it  is  dull  without  a  horse,  uncle,  both  in  the  vil- 
lage and  at  the  cordon;  and  you  can't  go  anywhere  to 
have  some  fun.  They  are  all  such  timid  people.  Even 
Nazarka.  The  other  day  we  were  in  the  native  village ; 
Gir^y-khan  wanted  us  to  go  with  him  into  the  Nogay 
country  for  horses,  but  no  one  would  go ;  how  could  I  go 
myself  ? " 

"And  what  about  uncle?  Do  you  think  I  am  dried 
up  ?  No,  I  am  not.  Give  me  a  horse,  and  I  will  go  at 
once  into  the  Nogay  country." 

"  What  is  the  use  of  wasting  words  ? "  said  Lukashka. 
"  You  tell  me  whether  I  may  trust  Gir^y-khan  ?  He 
says,  '  Just  take  the  horses  as  far  as  the  T(^rek,  and  there 


THE    COSSACKS  175 

I  will  find  a  place  for  them,  even  if  there  be  a  whole 
drove.'  He  is  one  of  those  that  shave  their  heads,  so 
I  do  not  know  whether  I  can  believe  him." 

"  You  may  believe  Gir^y-khan.  His  whole  family  are 
good  people ;  his  father  was  a  trusty  friend.  Only  take 
your  uncle's  advice,  for  I  will  not  advise  you  badly : 
make  him  take  an  oath,  then  it  will  be  all  right.  And 
when  you  go  with  him,  always  have  your  pistol  ready, 
particularly  when  you  divide  the  horses.  Once  I  came 
very  near  being  killed  by  a  Chechen,  when  I  asked  him 
ten  roubles  for  a  horse.  You  may  believe  him,  but  do 
not  lie  down  without  a  gun." 

Lukashka  listened  attentively  to  the  old  man. 

"  Uncle,  I  have  heard  them  say  that  you  have  the 
burst-grass,"  he  said,  after  a  moment's  silence. 

"  I  have  not  the  burst-grass,  but  I  will  teach  you  how 
to  get  it :  you  are  a  good  fellow,  and  you  never  forget  the 
uncle.     Shall  I  teach  you  ? " 

"  Yes,  uncle." 

"  You  know  the  turtle  ?  Well,  she  is  a  devil,  the  turtle 
is!" 

"  Of  course  I  know  ! " 

"  Find  her  nest,  and  make  a  little  wattled  fence  around 
it,  so  that  she  cannot  get  through.  So  she  will  come, 
will  circle  around,  and  'go  back  again ;  she  will  find  the 
burst-grass,  will  bring  it,  and  break  the  fence  with  it. 
You  get  there  early  in  the  morning,  and  watch :  where 
it  is  broken,  there  lies  the  burst-grass.  Pick  it  up,  and 
take  it  wherever  you  please.  There  will  be  no  lock  and 
no  wall  against  you  !  " 

"  Have  you  tried  it,  uncle  ? " 

"  No,  I  have  not,  but  good  people  have  told  me  of  it. 
I  only  had  an  incantation.  I  used  to  say  the  '  Hail  to 
Thee,'  whenever  I  mounted  ray  horse.  No  one  ever  killed 
me." 

"  What  is  that  '  Hail  to  Thee,'  uncle  ? " 


176  THE    COSSACKS 

"  Don't  you  know  it  ?  What  a  people  !  That's  right, 
ask  uncle  for  it.     Listen  !     Say  after  me : 

" '  Hail  to  Thee,  who  art  living  in  Zion. 
He  is  your  King. 
We  will  mount  the  horse. 
Sophonius  weeps. 
Zacharias  speaks. 
Father  Pilgrim 
Lover-over  of  men.' 

"  Lover-over  of  men,"  repeated  the  old  man.  "  Do  you 
know  it  ?     Tell  it ! " 

Lukashka  laughed. 

"  Well,  uncle,  is  this  why  you  were  not  killed  ? 
Maybe." 

"  You  are  getting  too  clever.  You  learn  it,  and  repeat  it. 
It  will  do  you  no  harm.  When  you  sing  the  '  Pilgrim,' 
you  are  all  right,"  and  the  old  man  laughed  himself. 
"  Still,  Lukashka,  don't  go  to  the  Nogay  country,  that's 
what  I  tell  you  ! " 

«  Why  not  ?  " 

"  This  is  not  the  time,  and  you  are  not  the  people  for 
it.  You  Cossacks  have  turned  into  a  dungheap.  And 
then  there  are  such  a  lot  of  Eussiaus  here !  They  will 
put  you  in  jail.  Truly,  give  it-  up.  You  are  not  the 
people  for  it !     Now,  Girchik  and  I  —  " 

And  the  old   man   began   to   tell  his   endless   stories. 

But  Lukashka  looked  out  of  the  window. 

"  It  is  daylight  now,  uncle,"  he  interrupted  him.  "  It 
is  time  for  me  to  go ;  come  and  see  us  sometime." 

"  Christ  save  you !  I  will  go  to  the  officer ;  I  have 
promised  to  take  him  out  hunting.  He  seems  to  be  a 
good  man." 


i 


XVII. 

From  Eroshka's  Lukashka  went  home.  As  he  was 
going  back,  a  damp  mist  had  risen  from  the  ground  and 
shrouded  the  village.  The  cattle  could  not  be  seen,  but 
were  heard  stirring  in  all  directions.  The  cocks  called 
each  other  more  frequently  and  more  noisily.  The  air 
grew  more  transparent,  and  people  were  getting  up. 
Coming  close  to  his  home,  Lukashka  made  out  the  fence, 
wet  from  the  mist,  the  porch  of  the  cabin,  and  the  open 
stall.  In  the  yard  the  sound  of  wood-chopping  could  be 
heard  though  the  mist.  Lukashka  walked  into  the  cabin. 
His  mother  was  up  and,  standing  in  front  of  the  oven, 
was  throwing  some  billets  of  wood  into  it.  His  young 
sister  was  still  asleep  on  the  bed. 

"  Well,  Lukashka,  have  you  had  your  spree  ? "  his 
mother  asked,  quietly.     "  Where  were  you  last  night  ? " 

"  In  the  village,"  her  son  answered,  unwillingly,  getting 
his  musket  out  of  the  case,  and  examining  it. 

His  mother  shook  her  head. 

Having  put  some  powder  on  the  pan,  Lukashka  took 
down  the  pouch,  drew  from  it  several  empty  shells,  and 
began  to  fill  the  cartridges,  carefully  closing  them  up  with 
a  small  bullet  wrapped  in  a  rag.  He  pulled  out  the  filled 
cartridges  with  his  teeth,  and  examined  them,  and  then 
put  away  the  pouch. 

"  Well,  mother,  I  told  you  to  fix  the  bags.  Have  you 
mended  them  ? "  he  said. 

"  Of  course !  The  dumb  girl  mended  them  last  night. 
Is  it  time  for  you  to  go  back  to  the  cordon  ?  I  have  not 
had  a  chance  to  see  you." 

177 


178  THE    COSSACKS 

"The  moment  I  am  all  ready,  I  have  to  go,"  replied 
Lukashka,  tying  up  the  powder-bag.  "  Where  is  the 
dumb  girl  ?     Has  she  gone  out  ?  " 

"  I  think  she  is  splitting  wood.  She  has  been  worry- 
ing about  you  all  the  time.  '  I  shall  not  see  him,'  she 
said.  She  pointed  with  her  hand  to  her  face,  and  clicked 
and  pressed  her  heart  with  her  hand,  as  much  as  to  say, 
'  It  is  a  pity.'  Shall  I  call  her  ?  She  has  understood  all 
about  the  abr^k." 

"  Call  her,"  said  Lukashka.  "  I  had  somewhere  some 
lard,  bring  it  to  me.     I  must  grease  my  sabre." 

The  old  woman  went  out,  and  a  few  minutes  later 
Lukashka's  dumb  sister  walked  over  the  creaking  steps 
into  the  room.  She  was  six  years  older  than  her  brother, 
and  would  have  resembled  him  remarkably,  but  for  the 
dull  and  coarsely  changeable  expression  of  the  face, 
which  is  common  to  all  the  deaf  and  dumb.  Her  attire 
consisted  of  a  coarse  shirt  in  patches ;  her  feet  were  bare 
and  dirty ;  on  her  head  she  wore  a  blue  kerchief.  Her 
neck,  arms,  and  face  were  as  muscular  as  a  peasant's. 
It  was  evident  from  her  garb,  aud  from  everything,  that 
she  always  did  a  hard  man's  labour.  She  brought  in  an 
armful  of  wood  which  she  threw  down  near  the  oven. 
Then  she  walked  up  to  her  brother,  with  a  happy  smile, 
which  wrinkled  up  her  whole  face,  touched  him  by  the 
shoulder,  and  began  to  make  rapid  signs  to  him  with 
her  hands,  her  face,  and  her  whole  body. 

"  Well  done,  weU  done  !  A  fine  girl,  St^pka  ! "  repHed 
her  brother,  shaking  his  head.  "  You  have  fixed  every- 
thing, and  mended  it,  you  are  a  fine  girl !  Here  is 
something  for  it ! "  He  took  out  of  his  pocket  two 
honey-cakes,  and  gave  them  to  her. 

The  dumb  girl  blushed,  and  made  a  wild  noise,  to 
express  her  joy.  She  took  the  cakes,  and  began  more 
rapidly  still  to  make  the  signs,  pointing  often  in  one 
direction,  and  passing  her  stout  finger  over  her  brow  and 


I 


THE    COSSACKS  179 

face.  Lukasbka  understood  her,  and  nodded,  smiling 
softly.  She  was  telling  him  that  her  brother  ought  to 
have  treated  the  girls,  and  that  the  girls  liked  him,  and 
that  the  girl  Maryanka  was  better  than  any  of  them, 
and  that  she  loved  him.  She  indicated  Maryanka  by 
pointing  rapidly  in  the  direction  of  her  yard,  and  to  her 
brows  and  face,  smacking  her  lips,  and  shaking  her  head. 
"  She  loves  you,"  she  said  by  pressing  her  hand  to  her 
breast,  kissing  her  hand,  and  as  though  hugging  some- 
thing. The  mother  returned  to  the  room,  and  when  she 
saw  what  the  dumb  girl  was  saying  she  smiled  and 
shook  her  head.  The  dumb  girl  showed  her  the  honey- 
cakes,  and  again  shouted  for  joy. 

"  I  told  Ulitka  the  other  day  that  I  would  send  a 
go-between,"  said  the  mother.  "  She  received  my  remarks 
kindly." 

Lukashka  looked  silently  at  his  mother. 

"  But,  mother,  you  must  take  down  the  wine !  I  need 
a  horse." 

"I  will  take  it  down  when  I  have  time.  I  will  fix 
the  casks,"  said  the  mother,  obviously  not  wishing  to 
have  her  son  meddle  with  domestic  affairs.  "  When  you 
go,"  said  the  old  woman  to  her  son,  "  take  along  the  bag 
in  the  vestibule.  I  have  borrowed  from  people  to  let 
you  have  something  at  the  cordon.  Or  shall  I  put  it 
in  the  saddle-bag  ?  " 

"  Very  well,"  replied  Lukashka.  "  If  Girey-khan  from 
across  the  river  comes  to  see  me,  send  him  to  the  cordon, 
for  they  won't  let  me  off  for  quite  awhile.  I  have  some 
business  with  him." 

He  was  getting  ready. 

"  I  will  send  him,  Lukashka,  I  will.  So  you  have  been 
celebrating  at  Yamka's,  I  suppose  ? "  said  the  old  woman. 
"  When  I  got  up  in  the  night  to  attend  to  the  cattle,  I 
thought  I  heard  your  voice  singing." 

Lukashka  did   not  reply.     He  walked    out   into    the 


180  THE    COSSACKS 

vestibule,  slung  the  bags  across  his  shoulder,  tucked 
up  his  coat,  picked  up  the  gun,  and  stopped  on  the 
threshold. 

"  Good-bye,  mother ! "  he  said  to  her,  closing  the  gate 
after  him.  "  Send  me  a  keg  with  Nazarka.  I  have 
promised  the  boys ;  he  will  come  to  see  you." 

"  Christ  save  you,  Lukashka !  God  be  with  you !  I 
will  send  you,  from  the  new  cask,"  answered  the  old 
woman,  walking  up  to  the  fence.  "  Listen  to  what 
I  have  to  say,"  she  added,  bending  over  the  fence. 

The  Cossack  stopped. 

"  You  have  been  celebrating  here !  Well,  God  be 
praised  !  Why  is  a  young  man  not  to  have  a  good  time  ? 
Well,  God  has  granted  you  a  piece  of  good  luck.  But, 
down  there,  look  out,  my  son,  don't  do  it  —  Keep  on 
the  good  side  of  the  officer  !  You  must  not  do  otherwise ! 
I  will  sell  the  wine,  and  will  save  the  money  for  the 
horse,  and  will  get  you  the  girl  in  marriage." 

"  Very  well,  very  well ! "  said  the  son,  frowning. 

The  dumb  girl  shouted  to  attract  his  attention.  She 
pointed  to  her  head  and  hand,  which  meant,  "  A  shaven 
head,  —  a  Chechen."  Then,  frowning,  she  did  as  though 
she  aimed  with  a  gun,  cried  out,  or  rather  crowed,  shaking 
her  head.  She  was  telling  Lukashka  to  kill  another 
Chechen. 

Lukashka  understood  her.  He  smiled,  and  with  light 
steps,  holding  the  gun  on  his  back,  below  the  felt  mantle, 
disappeared  in  the  dense  mist. 

The  old  woman  stood  awhile  silently  at  the  gate,  then 
returned  to  the  hut,  and  at  once  went  to  work. 


XVIII. 

LuKASHKA  went  to  the  cordon.  At  the  same  time 
Uncle  Eroshka  whistled  to  his  dogs,  and,  chmbing  across 
the  fence,  went  by  back  ways  to  Ol^nin's  lodging.  He 
did  not  like  to  meet  women  when  he  went  out  hunting. 
Ol^nin  was  still  asleep,  and  Vanyiisha,  who  was  awake, 
but  not  yet  up,  was  considering  whether  it  was  time  or 
not,  when  Eroshka,  with  gun  on  his  back,  and  in  com- 
plete hunter's  trappings,  opened  the  door. 

"  Switches  !  "  he  cried,  in  his  bass  voice.  "  To  arms  ! 
The  Chechens  have  come !  Ivan !  Get  the  samovar 
ready  for  your  master !  You,  too,  get  up !  Lively ! " 
cried  the  old  man.  "  That's  the  way  with  us,  my  good 
man !  See,  the  girls  are  all  up !  Look  through  the 
window,  look !  She  is  going  for  water,  and  you  are  still 
asleep." 

Ol^nin  awoke,  and  leaped  up.  And  how  refreshed  and 
merry  he  felt  at  the  sight  of  the  old  man,  and  at  the 
sound  of  his  voice ! 

"  Lively  !  Lively,  Vanyiisha  !  "  he  shouted. 

"  That  is  the  way  you  go  out  hunting !  People  are 
getting  their  breakfast,  and  you  are  asleep.  Lyam ! 
Come  here ! "  he  called  to  his  dog. 

"  Is  your  gun  ready  ? "  he  shouted,  as  though  there 
were  a  whole  crowd  in  the  room. 

"  Well,  I  am  guilty,  but  what  is  to  be  done  ?  Powder, 
Vanyusha !     And  the  wads  ! "  said  Ol^nin. 

"  The  fine  !  "  cried  the  old  man. 

"  Du  U  voulez-vous  ?  "  said  Vanyusha,  grinning. 

181 


182  THE    COSSACKS 

"  You  are  not  one  of  us !  You  are  not  talking  in  our 
language,  you  devil ! "  the  old  man  cried  to  hiro,  showing 
the  roots  of  his  teeth. 

"  A  first  offence  is  generally  forgiven,"  joked  OMnin, 
pulhng  on  liis  big  boots. 

"  The  first  offence  is  forgiven,"  answered  Erdshka,  "  but 
if  you  sleep  late  the  next  time,  your  fine  will  be  a  bucket 
of  red  wine.  When  it  gets  warmer,  you  can't  find  the 
stags." 

"  But  even  if  we  find  them,  they  are  more  intelhgent 
than  we,"  said  Ol^uin,  repeating  the  old  man's  words 
which  he  had  said  the  evening  before.  "  You  cannot 
cheat  them." 

"  Laugh  all  you  please !  First  kill  one,  and  then  talk. 
Come,  now,  lively !  Look  there,  your  landlord  is  coming 
to  see  you,"  said  Erdshka,  looking  out  of  the  window. 
"  Just  see  how  he  is  dressed  up !  He  has  put  on  a  new 
coat  so  as  to  let  you  know  that  he  is  an  officer.  Oh, 
what  a  people  !     What  a  people  ! " 

And  indeed,  Vanyusha  announced  to  the  master  that 
the  landlord  wanted  to  see  him. 

"  L argent"  he  said,  significantly,  to  prepare  his  master 
for  the  meaning  of  the  ensign's  visit.  He  was  soon  fol- 
lowed by  the  ensign  himself,  who  entered  the  room  swag- 
gering, and  with  a  smile  on  his  face,  and  wished  Ol^nin  a 
pleasant  Sunday.  He  wore  a  new  mantle,  with  the 
shoulder-straps  of  an  officer,  and  polished  boots,  which  is 
a  rarity  among  Cossacks. 

The  ensign,  Ilya  Vasilevich,  was  an  educated  Cossack, 
who  had  been  in  Eussia,  and  was  a  school  teacher ;  but 
above  all  he  was  noble.  He  wanted  to  appear  noble,  but 
under  the  monstrous  veneer  of  his  glibness,  self-confidence, 
and  preposterous  speech  one  could  not  help  perceiving  the 
same  Uncle  Erdshka.  This  was  also  evident  from  his  sun- 
burnt face,  from  his  hands,  and  red  nose.  Ol^nin  invited 
him  to  sit  down. 


I 


THE    COSSACKS  183 

"  Good  morning,  Father  Ilya  Vasilevich  !  "  said  Erdshka, 
arising,  and,  as  Olenin  thought,  making  an  ironically  low 
bow. 

"  Good  morning,  uncle  !  Are  you  already  here  ?  "  re- 
plied the  ensign,  carelessly  nodding  his  head  to  him. 

The  ensign  was  a  man  of  about  forty  years  of  age,  with 
a  gray,  wedge-shaped  beard,  lean,  slender,  and  handsome, 
and  still  very  well  preserved  for  his  forty  years.  When 
he  came  to  see  Olenin,  he  was  obviously  afraid  lest  he 
should  be  taken  for  a  common  Cossack,  so  he  wanted  to 
make  him  feel  his  importance  right  away. 

"  This  is  our  Egyptian  Nimrod,"  he  said,  turning  with  a 
self-satisfied  smile  to  Olenin,  and  pointing  to  the  old  man. 
"  A  hunter  before  the  Lord.  He  is  a  great  hand  at  every- 
thing.    Have  you  made  liis  acquaintance  already  ? " 

Uncle  Eroshka,  looking  at  his  feet,  which  were  wrapped 
in  wet  buckskins,  thoughtfully  shook  his  head,  as  though 
wondering  at  the  ensign's  glibness  and  learning,  and  mum- 
bled to  himself,  "  Gyptian  Nimbrod  !     What  a  name  !  " 

"  Yes,  we  want  to  go  hunting,"  said  Olenin. 

"  That  is  right,"  remarked  the  ensign,  "  but  I  have  a 
little  business  with  you." 

"  What  is  it  you  wish  ?  " 

"  Whereas  you  be  a  nobleman,"  began  the  ensign,  "  and 
whereas  I  am  able  to  understand  myself  as  also  having 
the  rank  of  an  officer,  and  we  consequently  may  treat 
each  other  as  of  equal  rank,  just  as  with  all  noblemen  " 
(he  stopped,  and  with  a  smile  glanced  upon  the  old  man 
and  upon  Olenin)  —  "  But  if  you  should  have  the  desire, 
in  accordance  with  my  agreement,  for  my  wife  being  a 
foolish  woman,  in  our  condition  of  life,  she  could  not  in 
the  present  time  completely  grasp  your  words  of  yester- 
day's date.  And  thus  my  lodgings  might  have  gone  to 
the  adjutant  of  the  regiment  for  six  roubles,  without  the 
stable,  and,  as  being  a  nobleman,  I  can  always  remove 
one  for  gratis.     And  whereas  you  should  vnsh,  I,  being 


184  THE    COSSACKS 

myself  of  the  rank  an  officer,  can  personally  come  to  an 
agreement  with  you,  and  as  an  inhabitant  of  this  country, 
not  as  is  the  habit,  I  am  able  to  comply  with  all  the 
points  of  the  agreement  —  " 

"  He  talks  clearly,"  mumbled  the  old  man. 

The  ensign  talked  long  in  the  same  strain.  Of  this,  all 
Oleuin  was  able  to  make  out,  not  without  great  difficulty, 
was  that  the  ensign  wanted  to  get  six  roubles  a  month  for 
his  quarters.  He  gladly  complied  with  his  wish,  and 
offered  his  guest  a  glass  of  tea.     The  ensign  declined  it. 

"  According  to  our  foolish  custom,"  he  said,  "  we  regard 
it  almost  a  sin  to  use  a  general  glass.  Though,  in  accord- 
ance with  my  education,  I  might  understand  it ;  my  wife, 
in  her  human  weakness  —  " 

"  Well,  will  you  have  a  glass  of  tea  ? " 

"  If  you  will  permit  me,  I  will  bring  my  own  glass,  my 
special  glass,"  answered  the  ensign,  and  walked  out  on 
the  porch.     "  Fetch  me  a  glass  ! "   he  shouted. 

A  few  minutes  later  the  door  opened,  and  a  young  sun- 
burnt hand,  in  a  rose-coloured  sleeve,  holding  a  glass,  was 
stretched  out  through  the  door.  The  ensign  walked  up, 
took  the  glass,  and  said  something  in  a  whisper  to  his 
daughter.  Ol^niu  filled  the  special  glass  for  the  ensign, 
and  a  general  glass  for  ErcSshka. 

"  However,  I  do  not  wish  to  keep  you,"  said  the  ensign, 
burning  his  lips  in  his  haste  to  finish  his  glass.  "  I,  so  to 
say,  have  myself  a  great  passion  for  fishing,  and  I  am 
here  only  on  vacation,  so  to  say,  on  a  recreation  from 
my  duties.  I  also  have  a  desire  to  try  my  luck,  and  to 
see  whether  the  '  Gifts  of  Terek '  ^  will  not  fall  to  my  lot. 
I  hope  you  will  visit  me  sometime,  to  drink  the  '  family ' 
cup,  according  to  our  village  custom,"  he  added. 

The  ensign  bowed,  pressed  Ol^nin's  hand,  and  went  out. 
As  Olenin  was  getting  ready  to  go,  he  heard  the  ensign's 
commanding  voice  giving  orders  to  the  members  of  his 
1  Poem  by  L^rmontov, 


THE    COSSACKS 


185 


family.  A  few  minutes  later  Ol^nin  saw  the  ensign  in 
trousers  rolled  up  over  his  knees  and  in  a  torn  half-coat, 
with  a  net  across  his  shoulder,  walking  past  the  window. 

"  The  rascal ! "  said  Uncle  Eroshka,  finishing  his  tea 
from  the  general  glass.  "  Well,  will  you  really  pay  him 
six  roubles  ?  Who  has  ever  heard  the  like  ?  You  may 
have  the  best  cabin  in  the  village  for  two  roubles.  What 
a  beast!  Why,  I  will  let  you  have  mine  for  three 
roubles." 

"  No,  I  had  better  remain  here,"  said  Ol^nin. 

"  Six  roubles  !  It  is  evidently  fool's  money  you  have ! 
Pshaw,"  said  the  old  man.     "  Fetch  the  red  wine,  Ivan  ! " 

Having  taken  a  snack  and  drunk  some  brandy  for  the 
journey,  Ol^nin  and  the  old  man  went  out  into  the  street, 
at  about  eight  o'clock. 

At  the  gate  they  met  a  cart  all  hitched  up.  Maryanka, 
her  head  wrapped  down  to  her  eyes  with  a  white  kerchief, 
wearing  a  half-coat  over  her  shirt,  in  boots,  and  holding  a 
long  switch  in  her  hands,  was  pulling  the  oxen  by  a  rope 
that  was  attached  to  their  horns. 

"Motherkin,"  said  the  old  man,  making  a  motion  as 
though  he  wanted  to  hug  her. 

Maryanka  raised  her  switch  at  him,  and  gave  them 
both  a  merry  glance  with  her  beautiful  eyes. 

Olenin  felt  even  more  cheerful  than  before. 

"  Well,  come !  Come  on  !  "  he  said,  shouldering  his  gun, 
and  feeling  the  girl's  eyes  resting  upon  him. 

"  Get  up  ! "  Maryanka's  voice  rang  out  behind  them,  and 
soon  after  the  moving  cart  was  heard  to  creak. 

As  long  as  the  road  led  back  of  the  houses  of  the  vil- 
lage, over  pastures,  Eroshka  kept  talking.  He  could  not 
forget  the  ensign,  and  he  did  not  stop  abusing  him. 

"  But  why  are  you  so  angry  at  him  ? "  asked  Olenin. 

"  He  is  stingy !  I  do  not  like  him,"  answered  the  old 
man.  "  When  he  dies,  everything  will  be  left.  For  whom 
is  he  hoarding  ?    He  has  put  up  two  buildings.    A  second 


186  THE    COSSACKS 

garden  he  got  by  a  lawsuit  from  his  brother.  And  he  is 
a  great  hand  at  writing  documents  !  They  come  to  him 
from  other  villages  to  get  their  documents  written  by  him. 
And  as  he  writes,  so  it  happens.  He  always  strikes  it 
right.  For  whom  is  he  hoarding  ?  He  has  but  one  boy 
and  one  girl,  and  when  she  is  married,  there  will  be 
nobody  left." 

"  Then  he  is  laying  up  for  the  dowry,"  said  Ol^nin. 

"What  dowry?  They  are  anxious  to  get  the  girl, — 
she  is  a  fine  girl.  He  is  such  a  devil  that  he  wants  to 
marry  her  to  a  rich  man.  He  wants  to  skin  him  out  of  a 
big  marriage  gift.  Luka  is  a  Cossack ;  he  is  a  neighbour 
of  mine  and  my  nephew ;  a  fine  chap  who  has  killed  a 
Chechen,  and  they  have  tried  to  get  her  for  him,  but  he 
will  not  let  him  have  her.  He  finds  one  excuse  after 
another.  *  The  girl  is  too  young,'  he  says.  But  I  know 
what  he  is  thinking  about.  He  wants  them  to  come  with 
gifts.  He  is  acting  shamefully  about  that  girl.  But 
Luk^shka  will  get  her  in  the  end,  for  he  is  the  first  Cos- 
sack in  the  village,  a  brave ;  he  killed  an  abr^k,  and  they 
will  give  him  a  cross." 

"  What  is  that  now  ?  As  I  was  walking  in  the  yard  last 
night,  I  saw  my  landlady's  daughter  kissing  a  Cossack," 
said  01(5nin. 

"  You  are  bragging,"  shouted  the  old  man,  stopping. 

"  Upon  my  word  ! "   said  Olenin. 

"  A  woman  is  a  devil,"  said  Erdshka,  pensively. 
"  What  kind  of  a  Cossack  was  it  ? " 

"  I  did  not  see." 

"  What  was  the  colour  of  the  hair  on  his  cap  ? 
White  ? " 

"  Yes." 

"  And  a  red  coat  ?     About  your  size  ? " 

"  No,  a  little  taller." 

"  That's  he  !  "  Eroshka  roared.  "  That's  he,  my  M^rka. 
I  call  him  M^rka  for  fun.     That's  he.     I  love  him !     I 


THE    COSSACKS  187 

was  just  like  him,  my  father.  What  is  the  use  asking 
them  ?  My  mistress  used  to  sleep  with  her  mother  and 
sister-in-law,  but  I  climbed  in  all  the  same.  She  used  to 
live  up-stairs.  Her  mother  was  a  witch,  a  devil:  she 
hated  me  dreadfully.  I  used  to  come  with  my  chum, 
they  called  him  Girchik.  I  would  walk  up  under  the 
window,  climb  on  his  shoulders,  raise  the  window,  and 
grope  my  way  in.  She  slept  on  a  bench.  Once  I  awak- 
ened her.  She  began  to  groan,  for  she  did  not  recognize 
me.  '  Who  is  there  ? '  But  I  did  not  dare  answer.  Her 
mother  was  already  stirring.  I  took  off  my  cap,  and 
gagged  her  with  it :  then  she  recognized  me  by  the  border 
of  my  cap.  She  leaped  up  from  her  bed.  At  other  times, 
I  did  not  need  any  of  these  stratagems.  And  she  would 
bring  me  boiled  cream,  and  grapes,  and  everything,"  added 
Eroshka,  who  explained  everything  in  a  practical  manner. 
"  And  she  was  not  the  only  one.     It  was  a  fine  life  I  led." 

"  And  now  ?  " 

"  Let  us  follow  the  dog !  When  a  pheasant  alights  on 
a  tree,  shoot !  " 

"  Would  you  court  Maryanka  ?  " 

"  You  watch  the  dogs !  I  will  tell  you  about  it  in  the 
evening,"  said  the  old  man,  pointing  to  his  favourite  dog, 
Lyam. 

They  grew  silent.  Having  walked  aljout  one  hundred 
steps,  talking  now  and  then,  the  old  man  stopped  once 
more  and  pointed  to  a  stick  that  was  lying  across  the 
path. 

"  What  do  you  think  about  it  ? "  he  said.  "  Do  you 
think  it  is  lying  right  ?      No,  the  stick  h  lying  badly." 

"  What  is  there  bad  in  it  ? " 

He  smiled. 

"  You  do  not  know  anything.  Listen  to  me  !  Wlien 
a  stick  hes  like  that,  you  must  not  step  over  it,  but  walk 
around  it,  or  throw  the  stick  away,  and  say  the  prayer, 
'  To  the  Father  and  the  Sou  and  the  Holy  Ghost,'  and 


188  THE    COSSACKS 

then  you  may  go  with  God's  aid.  It  will  not  hurt  you 
then.     Old  people  used  to  tell  me  that." 

"  What  nonsense  ! "  said  Ol^nin,  "  Tell  me  rather  about 
Mary^nka.  Well,  so  she  keeps  company  with  Lu- 
kashka  ? " 

"  Sh !  Now  keep  quiet,"  the  old  man  again  interrupted 
the  conversation,  in  a  whisper.  "  Just  listen.  We  will 
go  around  through  the  forest." 

And  the  old  man,  stepping  inaudibly  in  his  buckskins, 
walked  ahead  on  a  narrow  path  which  entered  a  dense, 
wild,  overgrown  forest.  He  looked  now  and  then,  frown- 
ingly,  back  upon  Ol^uin,  who  produced  a  rustling  noise 
and  a  thud  with  his  big  boots,  and,  carrying  his  gun  care- 
lessly, several  times  caught  in  the  branches  of  the  trees 
that  hung  over  the  path. 

"  Don't  make  any  noise  !  Go  more  softly,  soldier ! "  he 
said  to  him,  angrily,  in  a  whisper. 

The  air  felt  as  though  the  sun  were  up.  The  mist  was 
beginning  to  disperse,  but  it  still  enveloped  the  tops  of  the 
trees.  The  forest  seemed  to  be  terribly  high.  The  view 
changed  at  every  step  forward.  What  seemed  to  be  a 
tree,  turned  out  to  be  a  bush ;  the  reeds  looked  like  trees. 


XIX. 

The  mist  had  lifted,  so  that  the  moist  reed  thatches 
could  be  seen,  and  now  was  changed  into  dew  that  damp- 
ened the  road  and  the  grass  near  the  fences.  The  smoke 
rose  in  clouds  from  the  chimneys.  The  people  were  leav- 
ing the  village,  some  to  go  to  their  work,  others  to  the 
river,  and  others  again  to  the  cordon.  The  hunters 
walked  together  over  the  damp,  grass-grown  path.  The 
dogs  ran,  wagging  their  tails  and  looking  at  their  master, 
on  both  sides  of  them.  Millions  of  gnats  hovered  in  the 
air,  and  pursued  the  hunters,  covering  their  backs,  eyes, 
and  hands.  The  air  was  fragrant  with  grass  and  the 
dampness  of  the  woods.  Ol^nin  continually  looked  back 
at  the  ox-cart,  in  which  Maryanka  sat,  urging  on  the  oxen 
with  a  stick. 

Everything  was  quiet.  The  sounds  of  the  village, 
audible  before,  no  longer  reached  the  hunters ;  only  the 
dogs  crashed  through  the  thorn  bushes,  and  now  and  then 
a  bird  uttered  a  sound.  Olenin  knew  that  the  woods 
were  dangerous,  that  abr^ks  were  always  concealed  in 
such  places.  He  also  knew  that  for  a  man  on  foot  a  gun 
was  a  great  protection  in  the  forest.  Not  that  he  was 
afraid,  but  he  felt  that  any  other  person  would  feel  afraid  ; 
and,  looking  with  strained  attention  into  the  misty,  damp 
forest,  and  listening  to  the  occasional  faint  sounds,  he 
fingered  his  gun  and  experienced  a  novel  and  pleasant 
sensation. 

Uncle   Eroshka  walked   ahead  and    stopped  at  every 

189 


190  THE    COSSACKS 

puddle,  where  there  were  double  tracks  of  animals ;  he 
examined  them  carefully  and  showed  them  to  Ol^nin. 
He  said  very  little ;  occasionally  he  made  some  remark  in 
a  whisper.  The  road  over  which  they  were  walking  was 
rutted  by  cart-wheels,  and  thickly  overgrown  with  grass. 
The  cork-elm  and  plane-tree  forest  on  both  sides  of  the 
road  was  so  dense  and  so  choked  with  underbrush  that  it 
was  impossible  to  look  through  it.  Nearly  every  tree  was 
thickly  overgrown  to  its  top  with  wild  grape-vines ;  and 
below,  grew  thick  blackthorn  bushes.  Every  small  clear- 
ing was  overrun  with  blackberry  vines  and  reeds  with 
their  gray,  wavy  tops.  Here  and  there  large  animal 
tracks  and  small  tunnelled  trails  of  pheasants  led  from 
the  road  into  the  thicket.  The  rankness  of  the  vegetation 
in  this  forest,  which  had  not  been  tracked  by  cattle, 
greatly  impressed  OMnin  at  every  step  he  took,  for  he  had 
never  seen  anything  like  it.  This  forest,  the  peril,  the  old 
man  with  his  mysterious  whisper,  Maryanka  with  her 
strong,  stately  figure,  and  the  mountains,  —  all  this 
appeared  to  Olenin  like  a  dream. 

"The  dog  has  treed  a  pheasant,"  whispered  the  old 
man,  looking  around,  and  pulling  his  cap  over  his  face. 
"  Hide  your  mug,  it  is  a  x^heasant ! "  He  angrily  waved 
his  hand  to  Olenin  and  crept  on,  almost  on  his  hands  and 
knees.     "  It  does  not  hke  a  man's  mug." 

Olenin  was  some  distance  behind  him,  when  the  old 
man  stopped  and  began  to  examine  the  tree.  A  cock 
called  from  the  tree  to  the  dog,  which  was  barking  at 
him,  and  Olenin  noticed  the  pheasant.  But  just  then  a 
report,  like  a  cannon,  rang  out  from  Eroshka's  monstrous 
gun,  and  the  cock  flew  up,  dropping  some  of  liis  feathers, 
and  fell  to  the  ground.  Walking  up  to  the  old  man, 
OMnin  scared  up  another.  Putting  his  gun  to  his  shoul- 
der, he  aimed  and  tired.  The  pheasant  circled  upwards 
and  then,  catching  in  the  branches,  fell  like  a  stone  into 
the  thicket. 


1 


THE    COSSACKS  191 

"  You  are  a  brick ! "  cried  the  old  man,  who  could  not 
shoot  a  bird  on  the  wing,  and  smiled. 

They  picked  up  the  pheasants  and  went  on.  Excited 
by  the  motion  and  by  the  praise,  Ol^nin  kept  up  a  con- 
versation with  the  old  man. 

"  Wait !  We  will  go  in  this  direction,"  the  old  man 
interrupted  Mm.     "  I  saw  a  deer  trail  here  yesterday." 

Having  turned  into  the  thicket  and  gone  some  three 
hundred  paces,  they  came  to  a  clearing  that  was  over- 
grown with  reeds,  and  in  places  oveiilowed  with  water. 
Ol^nin  kept  falling  behind  the  old  huntsman,  and  suddenly 
Uncle  Eroshka  crouched,  about  twenty  steps  in  front  of 
liira,  excitedly  nodding  his  head  and  waving  his  hand. 
When  Ol^nin  came  up  to  him,  he  saw  the  track  of  a 
man's  feet,  to  which  the  old  man  was  pointing. 

"  You  see  ? " 

"  I  do.  What  of  it  ? "  said  Oli^nin,  trying  to  speak  as 
calmly  as  possible.     "  It  is  a  man's  track." 

Involuntarily  the  thought  of  Cooper's  "  Pathfinder  "  and 
of  abr^ks  flashed  through  his  head,  and  when  he  saw  the 
mysterious  manner  in  wliich  the  old  man  walked  ahead, 
he  could  not  make  up  his  mind  to  ask  him  any  questions, 
and  was  in  doubt  whether  it  was  the  peril  or  the  hunt 
which  caused  this  mystery. 

"  No,  that  is  my  track,"  the  old  man  answered,  simply, 
and  pointed  to  the  grass,  underneath  which  a  faint  ani- 
mal track  was  visible. 

The  old  man  went  ahead.  Ol^nin  did  not  fall  back. 
Having  walked  about  twenty  paces,  they  went  down-hill 
and  came  to  a  spreading  pear-tree  in  a  thicket ;  under- 
neath it  the  earth  was  black,  and  fresh  animal  dung  lay 
upon  it. 

The  place  was  all  covered  with  grape-vines,  and  resem- 
bled a  covered  cosy  arbour,  dark  and  cool. 

"  He  has  been  here  this  morning,"  said  the  old  man, 
sighing.     "  The  lair  is  still  fresh  and  steaming." 


192  THE    COSSACKS 

Suddenly  a  mighty  crash  was  heard  in  the  forest,  about 
ten  paces  from  them.  Both  of  them  were  startled  and 
grasped  their  guns,  but  they  could  not  see  anything ;  they 
could  only  hear  the  breaking  of  branches.  The  swift, 
even  thud  of  a  gallop  could  be  heard  for  a  moment ;  then 
the  crackling  passed  into  a  hollow  din,  farther  and  farther 
away,  and  reechoing  farther  and  farther  through  the  quiet 
forest.  Ol^nin  felt  as  though  something  was  breaking  in 
his  heart.  '  He  gazed  in  vain  into  the  green  thicket,  and 
finally  looked  at  the  old  man.  Uncle  Erdshka  stood  im- 
movable, pressing  his  gun  to  his  chest ;  his  cap  was 
poised  on  the  back  of  his  head ;  his  eyes  were  burning 
with  an  uncommon  brilliancy ;  and  his  mouth,  showing 
its  well-worn  yellow  teeth,  remained  open,  as  though 
petrified. 

"  A  horned  stag  ! "  he  said.  He  threw  his  gun  down  in 
despair,  and  began  to  pull  his  gray  beard.  "  Here  he 
stood  !  I  ought  to  have  walked  up  from  the  path  !  Fool ! 
Fool ! "  and  he  tugged  his  beard  in  anger.  "  Fool !  Hog  ! " 
he  repeated,  painfully  pulling  his  beard. 

It  looked  as  though  something  were  flying  by,  above 
the  forest,  in  the  mist.  Farther  and  farther  away  re- 
sounded the  gallop  of  the  stag. 

Ol^nin  and  the  old  man  returned  at  twilight.  He  was 
weary,  hungry,  and  full  of  strength.  The  dinner  was 
ready.  He  ate  and  drank  with  the  old  man,  and  feeling 
warm  and  gay,  he  walked  out  on  the  porch.  Again  the 
mountains  in  the  west  rose  before  his  eyes.  Again  the 
old  man  told  his  endless  stories  about  hunting,  about 
abr(5ks,  and  about  mistresses,  —  about  a  careless,  adventur- 
ous life.  Again  fair  Maryanka  walked  in  and  out,  and 
crossed  the  yard.  Under  her  shirt  was  clearly  outlined 
the  powerful,  virgin  body  of  the  fair  maiden. 


XX. 

On  the  following  day  Olenin  went  without  the  old  man 
to  the  place  where  they  had  scared  up  the  stag.  Instead 
of  going  through  the  gate,  he  climbed  over  a  hedge  of 
brambles,  just  as  everybody  else  in  the  village  would  do. 
He  had  not  yet  got  all  the  thorns  out  of  his  mantle,  when 
his  dog,  which  had  run  ahead,  startled  two  pheasants.  The 
moment  he  entered  into  the  buckthorn  thicket,  pheasants 
flew  up  at  every  step.  (The  old  man  had  not  shown  him 
this  place  the  day  before,  intending  to  hunt  there  with 
snares.)  Olenin  killed  five  pheasants  out  of  twelve  shots, 
and,  crawling  for  them  under  the  thorn  bushes,  grew  so 
fatigued  that  the  perspiration  trickled  down  his  face  in 
streams.  He  called  back  his  dog,  uncocked  his  gun,  put 
the  bullets  on  the  shot,  and,  warding  off  the  gnats  with 
the  sleeves  of  his  mantle,  slowly  walked  toward  the  place 
where  he  had  been  the  day  before.  It  was,  however, 
impossible  to  keep  back  the  dog,  which  ran  upon  trails  on 
the  path,  and  he  killed  two  more  pheasants ;  he  lost  his 
time  with  them,  and  did  not  come  to  the  familiar  spot 
before  midday. 

It  was  a  very  clear,  quiet,  warm  day.  The  morning 
dampness  was  dried  up  even  in  the  forest,  and  millions 
of  gnats  literally  covered  his  face,  back,  and  hands.  The 
black  dog  looked  gray  under  a  covering  of  gnats.  The 
mantle,  through  which  the  gnats  thrust  their  stings,  looked 
just  as  gray.  Olenin  wanted  to  run  away  from  the  pests ; 
he  even  thought  that  it  would  be  impossible  to  pass  a 
summer  in  the  village.     He  started  homewards ;  but  con- 

193 


194  THE    COSSACKS 

sideling  that  people  Jived  there  in  spite  of  the  gnats,  he 
determined  to  suffer,  and  patiently  endured  the  stings. 
Strange  to  say,  toward  midday  the  sensation  began  to  be 
agreeable  to  him.  It  even  seemed  to  him  that  if  it  were 
not  for  that  atmosphere  of  the  gnats  which  surrounded  him, 
and  for  that  paste  of  gnats,  which  under  his  hand  was 
smeared  over  his  whole  perspiring  face,  and  for  that  dis- 
quieting burning  over  his  whole  body,  the  forest  of  that 
region  would  lose  its  character  and  charm  for  him.  These 
myriads  of  insects  were  so  appropriate  to  this  wild,  des- 
perately rich  vegetation,  to  this  endless  mass  of  beasts 
and  birds  that  filled  the  woods,  to  this  green  foliage,  to 
tliis  redolent,  warm  air,  to  these  runlets  of  muddy  water 
which  oozed  on  all  sides  from  the  T^rek,  and  which 
bubbled  somewhere  under  the  overhanging  branches,  that 
that  which  before  had  appeared  to  him  terrible  and 
unbearable,  now  gave  him  pleasure. 

Having  passed  by  the  spot  where  on  the  previous  day 
they  had  seen  the  stag,  and  not  meeting  anything  there, 
he  wanted  to  take  a  rest.  The  sun  stood  straight  over 
the  forest,  and  its  direct  rays  burnt  liis  back  and  head 
every  time  he  walked  out  on  a  clearing  or  into  the  road. 
Seven  heavy  pheasants  weighed  heavily  on  the  small  of 
his  back.  He  found  the  stag's  tracks  of  the  previous 
day,  crawled  under  the  bush  in  the  thicket  where  the 
stag  had  been  lying  the  day  before,  and  lay  down  near 
the  lair.  He  examined  the  dark  foliage  all  around  him, 
the  damp  place,  the  dung  of  the  previous  day,  the  imprint 
of  the  stag's  knees,  a  clump  of  black  earth  which  the 
stag  had  kicked  up,  and  his  own  tracks  of  the  day  before. 
He  felt  cool  and  comfortable ;  he  thought  of  nothing, 
wished  for  nothing. 

And  suddenly  he  was  overcome  by  such  a  strange  feel- 
ing of  causeless  happiness  and  love  for  everything  that, 
following  an  old  boyish  habit,  he  began  to  cross  himself 
and    to    thank    somebody    for    something.     It    suddenly 


THE    COSSACKS  195 

passed  through  his  mind  with  extraordinary  clearness 
that  he,  Dmitri  01(5nin,  a  being  apart  from  all  other 
beings,  was  sitting  all  alone,  God  knew  where,  in  the  very- 
spot  where  there  used  to  live  a  stag,  a  beautiful  old  stag 
which,  perhaps,  had  never  before  seen  a  man,  and  in  a 
place  where,  perhaps,  no  one  had  been  sitting  before,  or 
thinking  about  the  same  matter. 

"  I  am  sitting  here,  and  all  about  me  are  young  and  old 
trees,  and  one  of  these  is  festooned  with  wild  grape-vines ; 
near  me  pheasants  are  fluttering,  driving  each  other  from 
their  hiding-places,  and  probably  scenting  their  dead 
brothers."  He  put  his  fingers  on  his  pheasants,  examined 
them,  and  wiped  his  hand,  which  was  stained  by  their 
warm  blood,  against  his  mantle.  "  The  jackals  are  prob- 
ably scenting  them,  and  with  dissatisfied  faces  turning 
away  in  the  opposite  direction.  The  gnats  fly  all  around 
me,  passing  by  leaves  that  appear  to  them  like  so  many 
huge  islands,  and  they  hover  in  the  air  and  buzz:  one, 
two,  three,  four,  one  hundred,  one  thousand,  a  million 
gnats,  and  all  of  them  buzz  something,  for  some  reason, 
all  about  me,  and  every  one  of  them  is  just  such  a  Dmitri 
OMnin,  apart  from  all  the  rest,  as  I  am."  He  had  a 
clear  idea  of  what  the  gnats  were  thinking  and  buzzing. 
"  Here,  boys !  Here  is  one  whom  we  can  eat,"  they 
buzzed,  and  clung  to  him.  And  it  became  clear  to  him 
that  he  was  not  at  all  a  Paissian  nobleman,  a  member 
of  Moscow  society,  a  friend  and  relative  of  this  or  that 
person,  but  simply  just  such  a  gnat,  or  pheasant,  or  stag, 
as  those  that  now  were  living  all  around  him.  "  I  shall 
live  and  die,  just  like  them,  like  Uncle  Eroshka.  And 
he  is  telling  the  truth,  '  Only  grass  will  grow  up ! ' 

"  And  what  of  it  if  the  grass  will  grow  up  ? "  he  con- 
tinued his  thought.  "  Still  I  must  live ;  I  must  be  happy, 
because  I  wish  but  for  this  —  happiness.  It  matters  not 
what  I  am :  such  an  animal  as  the  rest,  over  which  the 
grass  will  grow,  and  nothing  else,  or  a  frame  into  which 


196  THE    COSSACKS 

a  part  of  the  One  God  has  been  encased,  —  I  must  still  live 
the  best  way  possible.  But  how  must  I  live  in  order 
to  be  happy,  and  why  have  I  not  been  happy  before  ? " 
And  he  began  to  recall  his  former  life,  and  he  was  dis- 
gusted with  himself.  He  represented  himself  as  an 
exacting  egoist,  whereas  in  reality  he  needed  very  little 
for  himself.  And  he  kept  gazing  about  him  :  at  the  foliage 
checkered  by  the  sunlight,  at  the  declining  sun,  and  at 
the  clear  heaven,  and  he  felt  himself  as  happy  as  before. 

"  Why  am  I  happy,  and  why  have  I  lived  before  ? "  he 
thought.  "  How  exacting  I  used  to  be !  How  I  con- 
cocted and  caused  nothing  but  shame  and  woe  for  my- 
self ! "  And  suddenly  it  seemed  that  a  new  world  was 
open  to  him,  "  Happiness  is  this,"  he  said  to  himself : 
"  happiness  consists  in  living  for  others.  This  is  clear. 
The  desire  for  happiness  is  inborn  in  man ;  consequently 
it  is  legitimate.  In  attempting  to  satisfy  it  in  an  ego- 
istical manner,  that  is,  by  seeking  wealth,  glory,  comforts 
of  life,  and  love,  the  circumstances  may  so  arrange  them- 
selves that  it  is  impossible  to  satisfy  these  desires.  Con- 
sequently these  desires  are  illegitimate,  but  the  need  of 
happiness  is  not  illegitimate.  Now,  what  desires  are 
these  that  can  always  be  satisfied,  in  spite  of  external 
conditions  ?     What  desires  ?     Love,  self-sacrifice !  " 

He  was  so  rejoiced  and  excited  when  he  discovered  this 
truth  which  seemed  to  be  new,  that  he  leaped  up  and' 
impatiently  began  to  look  around  for  some  one  to  sacrifice 
himself  for,  to  do  good  to,  and  to  love.  "  I  do  not  need 
anything  for  myself,"  he  proceeded  in  his  thought, "  then 
why  should  I  not  live  for  others  ? " 

He  picked  up  his  gun  and  walked  out  of  the  thicket, 
with  the  intention  of  returning  as  soon  as  possible  to  the 
house,  where  he  could  consider  the  matter  carefully,  and 
would  find  a  chance  to  do  some  good.  When  he  walked 
out  into  the  clearing,  he  gazed  about  liim :  the  sun  could 
no  longer  be  seen  above  the  tree-tops;  it  was  growing 


THE    COSSACKS  197 

cooler,  aud  the  locality  seemed  to  him  quite  unfamiliar 
and  not  like  the  one  which  surrounded  the  village. 
Everything  was  suddenly  changed,  —  both  the  weather,  and 
the  character  of  the  forest.  The  sky  was  shrouded  by 
clouds  ;  the  wind  rustled  in  the  tree-tops ;  all  around  him 
could  be  seen  nothing  but  reeds  and  old,  broken  trees. 
He  called  his  dog,  which  had  run  ahead  of  him  in  pursuit 
of  some  animal,  and  his  voice  reechoed  in  the  wilderness. 

And  suddenly  he  felt  dreadfully  ill  at  ease.  He  grew 
timid.  Abrt^ks  and  murders,  of  which  he  had  heard, 
passed  through  his  mind,  and  he  waited  for  a  Chechen 
to  jump  out  from  behind  each  bush,  when  he  would  have 
to  defend  his  life  and  die,  or  like  a  coward  run.  He 
thought  of  God  and  of  the  future  life,  as  he  never  before 
had  thought  of  it.  And  all  around  him  was  the  same 
gloomy,  severe,  wild  Nature.  "  Is  it  worth  while  to  live 
for  myself,"  he  thought,  "when  I  may  die  any  minute, 
and  die  without  having  done  any  good,  and  without  any 
one  knowing  it  ?  " 

He  walked  in  the  direction  where  he  supposed  the 
village  to  be.  He  no  longer  thought  of  his  hunt.  He 
experienced  mortal  fatigue,  and  with  extraordinary  atten- 
tion, almost  with  terror,  w^atched  every  bush  and  tree, 
expecting  any  moment  to  make  his  account  with  life. 
Having  wandered  about  for  quite  awhile,  he  came  to  a 
runlet,  down  which  flowed  the  sandy,  cold  water  of  the 
Terek,  and,  not  to  lose  his  way  again,  he  decided  to  walk 
along  the  brook.  He  walked,  without  knowing  whither 
it  would  take  him.  Suddenly  the  reeds  behind  him 
rustled.  He  was  startled  and  grasped  his  gun.  He  was 
ashamed  of  himself  ■\^hen  he  saw  his  panting  dog  rush 
into  the  cold  water  of  the  runlet  and  lap  it. 

He  took  a  drink  himself  and  walked  in  the  direction 
of  the  stream,  hoping  that  it  would  bring  him  to  the 
village ;  but,  in  spite  of  the  companionship  of  his  dog, 
everything  around  him  appeared  to  him  unusually  gloomy. 


198  THE    COSSACKS 

The  forest  was  growing  darker,  the  wind  blew  ever 
stronger  through  the  tops  of  the  old  broken  trees.  Some 
large  birds  were  shrieking  and  circling  about  the  nests 
in  these  trees.  The  vegetation  grew  more  scanty ;  rus- 
tling reeds  and  barren,  sandy  clearings,  tramped  down  by 
animal  tracks,  became  more  common.  To  the  roar  of  the 
wind  was  added  another  disagreeable,  monotonous  roar. 
He  felt  altogether  melancholy.  He  put  his  hand  on 
the  pheasants  back  of  him,  and  he  found  one  missing. 
The  pheasant  had  broken  off  and  was  lost,  and  only  the 
bloody  neck  and  head  remained  in  the  belt.  He  had 
never  felt  so  terribly  before.  He  began  to  pray  to  God, 
and  he  was  afraid  but  of  this,  that  he  might  die  without 
having  done  anything  good  ;  and  he  was  so  anxious  to  live, 
to  live,  in  order  to  commit  an  act  of  self-renunciation. 


XXL 

Suddenly  his  soul  became  illumined  as  though  by  the 
sun.  He  heard  the  sounds  of  Russian  speech,  and  the 
swift  and  even  flow  of  the  T^rek,  and  two  steps  in  front 
of  him  lay  the  cinnamon-coloured  moving  surface  of  the 
river,  with  its  dark  brown  wet  sand  on  the  banks  and 
shoals,  the  distant  steppe,  the  watch-tower  of  the  cordon 
that  stood  out  above  the  water,  a  saddled  horse  walking 
hobbled  in  the  buckthorn-bushes,  and  the  mountains. 
The  red  sun  burst  suddenly  from  behind  a  cloud,  and 
with  its  last  rays  gleamed  merrily  down  the  river,  over 
the  reeds,  on  the  watch-tower,  and  on  the  Cossacks 
gathered  in  a  group,  among  whom  Lukashka  involun- 
tarily attracted  Ol^nin's  attention  by  his  spirited  figure. 

Olenin  again  felt,  without  any  apparent  cause,  quite 
happy.  He  had  struck  the  Nizhne-Protok  post,  on  the 
T^rek,  opposite  the  peaceable  native  village  on  the  other 
side  of  the  river.  He  saluted  the  Cossacks,  but  finding 
no  chance  of  doing  a  good  act,  walked  into  the  hut.  Nor 
did  any  chance  present  itself  there.  He  walked  into  the 
clay  hut  and  lighted  a  cigarette.  The  Cossacks  paid  little 
attention  to  Olenin,  in  the  first  place,  because  he  smoked 
a  cigarette ;  in  the  second,  because  on  that  evening  they 
had  another  attraction. 

Some  hostile  Chechens,  relatives  of  the  dead  abr^k,  had 
come  down  from  the  mountains  with  a  spy,  to  ransom  the 
body.  They  were  waiting  for  the  Cossack  authorities  to 
come  from  the  village.  The  brother  of  the  killed  man, 
a  tall,  stately  fellow,  with  a  clipped  beard  painted  red, 

199 


200  THE    COSSACKS 

though  wearing  a  mantle  and  cap  that  were  all  tattered 
and  torn,  was  as  self-possessed  and  majestic  as  a  king. 
His  face  resembled  that  of  the  dead  abr^k  very  closely. 
He  did  not  bestow  a  glance  upon  any  one,  not  once  gazed 
at  the  dead  man,  and,  squatting  in  the  shade  on  his  heels, 
smoked  his  pipe  and  spit,  and  occasionally  uttered  a  few 
guttural  sounds  of  command,  to  which  his  companion 
listened  respectfully.  It  was  obvious  that  he  was  a  brave 
who  had  more  than  once  seen  the  Russians,  and  under 
different  conditions,  and  that  at  the  present  time  nothing 
among  the  Russians  either  surprised  or  interested  him. 

01(5uiu  went  up  to  the  dead  man  and  began  to  gaze  at 
him,  but  the  brother,  casting  a  calm,  contemptuous,  super- 
cilious glance  upon  Oleuin,  said  something  abruptly  and 
angrily.  The  spy  hastened  to  cover  the  abri^k's  face  with 
the  dead  man's  mantle.  Oleuin  was  impressed  by  the 
majesty  and  austerity  of  the  brave's  face.  He  said  some- 
thing to  him,  asking  him  from  what  village  he  was,  but 
the  Chechen  barely  looked  at  him,  spit  out  contemptu- 
ously, and  turned  away  his  face.  Ol^nin  was  so  much 
surprised  that  the  mountaineer  was  not  interested  in  him, 
that  he  explained  to  himself  his  indifference  as  arising 
from  mere  stupidity,  or  from  an  uufamiliarity  with  the 
language.  He  turned  to  his  companion.  His  companion, 
the  spy  and  interpreter,  was  just  as  ragged,  but  his  hair 
was  black  and  not  red,  and  he  was  very  agile,  and  had 
extremely  white  teeth  and  sparkling  black  eyes.  The 
spy  gladly  entered  into  a  conversation,  and  asked  for  a 
cigarette. 

"  There  are  five  brothers,"  the  spy  said,  in  his  broken, 
half-Russian  speech.  "  The  Russians  have  just  killed  the 
third  brother,  and  only  two  are  left :  he  is  a  brave,  a 
great  brave,"  said  the  spy,  pointing  to  the  Chechen. 
"  When  they  killed  Akhm4-khan  "  (that  was  the  name  of 
the  dead  abrek)  "  he  was  sitting  in  the  reeds  on  the 
other  side  of  the  river;  he  saw  everything,  —  how  they 


THE    COSSACKS  201 

put  him  in  a  skiff,  and  how  they  took  him  to  the  shore. 
He  stayed  there  until  night;  he  wanted  to  kill  the  old 
man,  but  the  others  would  not  let  him." 

Lukashka  walked  up  to  the  speakers  and  sat  down. 

"  From  what  village  are  they  ? "  he  asked. 

"  There,  in  those  mountains,"  answered  the  spy,  point- 
ing beyond  the  Terek  to  a  bluish  mist-covered  cleft. 
"  I)o  you  know  Suyuk-su  ?     About  ten  versts  beyond  it." 

"  Do  you  know  Gir^y-khau  in  Suyilk-su  ? "  asked  Lu- 
kashka, obviously  boasting  of  his  friendship.  "  He  is  my 
chum." 

"  My  neighbour,"  answered  the  spy. 

"  A  fine  fellow  ! "  and  Lukashka,  apparently  much  in- 
terested, began  to  speak  in  Tartar  with  the  interpreter. 

The  captain  and  village  elder,  with  a  suite  of  two  Cos- 
sacks, all  mounted,  arrived  soon  after.  The  captain,  a 
newly  created  Cossack  officer,  saluted  the  Cossacks ;  no 
one  answered  the  salutation  with  a  "■  We  wish  you  health, 
well-born  sir ! "  as  army  soldiers  do,  but  here  and  there  a 
Cossack  answered  by  a  mere  nod.  Some,  and  Lukashka 
was  among  their  number,  rose  and  stood  in  a  military 
attitude.  The  under-officer  reported  everything  in  proper 
condition  at  the  post.  All  tliis  seemed  very  ridiculous  to 
Ol^nin ;  it  looked  as  though  the  Cossacks  tried  to  play 
soldiers.  But  the  formality  soon  passed  into  simple  rela- 
tions, and  the  captain,  who  was  just  such  an  agile  Cossack 
as  the  rest,  carried  on  a  brisk  conversation  in  Tartar  with 
the  interpreter.  They  wrote  up  a  document  which  they 
gave  to  the  spy  ;  they  took  money  from  hiip,  and  went  up 
to  the  dead  body. 

"  Gavrilov  Luk^,  who  is  he  ? "  said  the  captain. 

Lukashka  took  off  his  cap  and  stepped  up  to  him. 

"  I  have  sent  a  report  about  you  to  the  commander.  I 
do  not  know  what  will  come  of  it.  I  have  recommended 
a  cross,  —  it  is  too  early  yet  for  a  sergeancy.  Can  you 
read  and  write  ? " 


202  THE    COSSACKS 

"  Not  at  all." 

"  What  a  fine-looking  fellow  you  are,"  said  the  captain, 
continuing  to  play  the  superior.  "  Put  on  your  cap !  Of 
what  Gavrilovs  is  he  ?  Of  the  Broad  ? " 

"  His  nephew,"  answered  the  under-officer. 

"  I  know,  I  know.  Now,  come  on,  give  them  a  lift," 
he  said  to  the  Cossacks. 

Lukashka's  face  was  gleaming  with  joy,  and  looked 
more  beautiful  than  ever.  Walking  away  from  the  under- 
officer,  and  donning  his  cap,  he  again  seated  himself  near 
Olenin. 

When  the  body  was  carried  into  the  skiff,  the  brother 
of  the  Chech(5n  brave  walked  down  to  the  shore.  The 
Cossacks  involuntarily  stepped  aside,  to  make  way  for 
him.  He  pushed  off  the  boat  with  liis  powerful  foot,  and 
leaped  into  it.  Olenin  noticed  that  he  now,  for  the  first 
time,  cast  a  rapid  glance  upon  all  the  Cossacks,  and  again 
abruptly  asked  his  companion  something.  His  companion 
answered  him  and  pointed  to  Lukashka.  The  Chechen 
gazed  at  him,  and,  turning  slowly  away,  began  to  look  at 
the  other  shore.  Not  hatred,  but  cold  contempt,  was  ex- 
pressed in  this  glance.     He  again  said  something. 

"  What  did  he  say  ? "  asked  Olenin,  of  the  mercurial 
interpreter. 

"  You  strike  ours,  we  kill  yours,  —  all  the  same,"  said 
the  spy,  obviously  lying.  He  laughed,  displaying  his 
white  teeth,  and  jumped  into  the  skiff. 

The  brother  of  the  dead  man  sat  immovable,  and 
looked  steadily  at  the  other  bank.  He  was  so  full  of 
hatred  and  contempt  that  there  could  be  nothing  interest- 
ing for  him  on  this  side.  The  spy  stood  at  the  end  of 
the  skiff,  and,  transferring  his  oar  from  one  side  to  the 
other,  skilfully  directed  the  boat.  He  was  talking  with- 
out cessation.  The  skiff  cut  the  current  in  an  oblique 
direction,  and  looked  ever  smaller  and  smaller.  Their 
voices  were  scarcely  audible,  and  finally  they  could  be 


i 


THE    COSSACKS  203 

seen  disembarking  where  their  horses  were  standing. 
There  they  carried  the  body  on  shore.  Though  the 
horse  was  restless,  they  placed  the  body  on  its  saddle, 
mounted,  and  slowly  rode  along  the  road  past  the  village, 
from  which  a  crowd  of  people  came  out  to  look  at  them. 
The  Cossacks  on  our  side  were  very  contented  and  happy. 
Everywhere  were  heard  laughter  and  jokes.  The  captain 
and  village  elder  made  themselves  comfortable  in  the 
clay  hut.  Lukashka,  with  happy  face,  to  which  he  vainly 
tried  to  give  a  staid  appearance,  sat  near  Ol^nin,  leaning 
his  elbows  on  liis  knees  and  whittling  a  stick. 

"  Why  do  you  smoke  ? "  he  said,  as  though  with  curi- 
osity.    "  Is  it  good  ? " 

He  said  this  for  no  other  reason  than  because  he  noticed 
that  Ol^nin  did  not  feel  at  ease,  and  was  all  alone  among 
the  Cossacks. 

"  I  am  just  used  to  it,"  answered  Oleuin.     "  Why  ?  " 

"  Hm !  It  would  be  bad  if  any  of  us  fellows  should 
smoke !  It  is  not  far  to  the  mountains,"  said  Lukashka, 
pointing  to  the  cleft, "  and  yet  you  won't  get  there  so  easily ! 
How  will  you  get  home  by  yourself  ?  It  is  dark.  I  will 
take  you  home  if  you  wish,"  said  Lukashka.  "  Just  ask 
the  under-officer's  permission." 

"  What  a  fine  fellow ! "  thought  Olt^nin,  watching  the 
Cossack's  happy  face.  He  recalled  Maryanka  and  the 
kiss  which  he  had  heard  by  the  gate,  and  he  was  sorry  for 
Lukashka,  sorry  for  his  lack  of  education. 

"  What  bosh  and  nonsense  ! "  he  thought.  "  One  man 
has  killed  another,  and  he  is  happy  as  though  he  had 
committed  a  most  beautiful  act.  Does  nothing  tell  him 
that  there  is  no  cause  here  for  any  great  rejoicing  ?  That 
happiness  does  not  consist  in  killing,  but  in  sacrificing 
yourself  ? " 

"  Now,  don't  you  get  in  his  way,  brother  ! "  said  one  of 
the  Cossacks  who  had  accompanied  the  skiff,  turning  to 
Lukashka.     "  Did  you  hear  him  ask  about  you  ? " 


204  THE    COSSACKS 

Lukashka  raised  his  head. 

"  You  mean  the  godson  ? "  said  Lukashka,  meaning  the 
Chechen. 

"  The  godson  will  not  rise  again,  but  his  red-haired 
brother  may  be  godfather." 

"  Let  him  thank  God  for  having  escaped  with  a  whole 
skin  ! "  said  Lukashka,  laughing. 

"  What  are  you  rejoicing  at  ? "  Ol^nin  said  to  Lukashka. 
"  Would  you  rejoice  if  they  killed  your  brother  ? " 

The  Cossack's  eyes  were  smiling,  as  they  looked  at 
Ol^nin.  He  evidently  understood  what  the  other  wanted 
to  say,  but  he  was  above  such  considerations. 

"  Well  ?  It  does  happen !  Do  they  not  kill  our 
brothers  ? " 


XXIL 

The  captain  and  elder  rode  away.  Wishing  to  give 
Lukashka  some  pleasure  and  not  to  walk  all  alone  through 
the  woods,  Olenin  asked  the  under-officer  to  give  Lu- 
kashka a  leave  of  absence,  which  was  granted.  Olenin 
thought  that  Lvikashka  wanted  to  see  Maryanka,  and  he 
was  in  general  glad  to  have  the  companionship  of  such  an 
apparently  agreeable  and  talkative  Cossack.  Lukashka 
and  Maryanka  involuntarily  were  united  in  his  imagina- 
tion, and  it  gave  him  pleasure  to  think  of  them.  "  He 
loves  Maryanka,"  Olenin  thought,  "  and  I  might  have 
loved  her."  And  a  strong,  novel  feeling  of  humility  of 
spirit  took  possession  of  him  on  his  way  through  the  dark 
forest.  Lukashka,  too,  was  light  of  heart.  There  was 
something  resembling  love  between  these  two  so  different 
young  people.  Every  time  they  looked  at  each  other, 
they  felt  like  laughing. 

"  What  gate  do  you  go  to  ?  "  asked  Olenin. 

"  Into  the  middle  gate.  But  I  will  take  you  to  the 
swamp.     There  you  need  not  fear  anything." 

OMnin  laughed. 

"  Do  you  think  I  am  afraid  ?  Go  back,  I  thank  you.  I 
will  get  there  myself." 

"  Never  mind !  What  else  have  I  to  do  ?  How  can 
you  help  being  afraid  ?  We  are,"  said  Lukashka,  also 
laughing,  and  assuaging  his  vanity. 

"  Come  to  my  house  !  We  will  talk  and  drink  together, 
and  in  the  morning  you  can  leave." 

"  Oh,  I  will  find  a  place  where  I  can  pass  a  night," 

205 


206  THE    COSSACKS 

Lukashka  laughed,  "  and  the  uuder-olEficer  told  me  to  be 
back." 

"  I  heard  you  singing  songs  last  night,  and  I  saw  you, 
too." 

"  All  people  —  "  and  Luka  shook  his  head. 

"  Well,  are  you  going  to  marry  ?  Is  it  true  ? "  Ol^nin 
asked. 

"  Mother  wants  to  get  me  married.  But  I  have  not 
yet  a  horse." 

"  You  are  not  yet  a  mounted  Cossack  ?  " 

"  No,  I  am  just  getting  ready  to  be  one.  I  have  no 
horse,  and  I  don't  know  how  to  procure  one.  So  they 
cannot  get  me  married  yet." 

"  How  much  does  a  horse  cost  ? " 

"  We  were  chaffering  for  one  the  other  day  across  the 
river.  They  would  not  take  sixty  roubles  for  him,  —  and 
it  is  a  Nogay  horse." 

"  Will  you  be  my  life-guardsman  ? "  (A  life-guardsman 
was  a  kind  of  an  orderly  to  an  officer  during  an  expe- 
dition.) "  I  will  get  that  appointment  for  you,  and  will 
give  you  a  horse,"  Ol^nin  suddenly  exclaimed.  "  Truly  ; 
I  have  two,  and  I  do  not  need  both." 

"  Why  do  you  not  need  them  ?  "  Lukashka  said,  laugh- 
ing. "  Why  give  it  away  ?  I  will  pay  you  for  it,  God 
permitting." 

"  Truly  !  Or  will  you  not  be  my  life-guardsman  ? "  said 
OMnin,  rejoicing  at  the  thought  of  giving  Lukashka  a 
horse.  But,  for  some  reason  or  other,  he  felt  awkward 
and  ashamed.  He  was  trying  to  say  something,  but  did 
not  know  what. 

Lukashka  was  the  first  to  break  the  silence. 

"  Have  you  a  house  of  your  own  in  Russia  ? "  he  asked. 

Ol^nin  could  not  keep  from  telling  him  that  he  had  not 
only  one,  but  several  houses. 

"  Are  they  fine  houses  ?  Larger  than  ours  ?  "  Lukashka 
asked,  good-naturedly. 


THE    COSSACKS  207 

"  Much  larger,  ten  times  larger ;  three  stories  high," 
Ol^nin  told  him. 

"  And  have  you  such  horses  as  we  have  ? " 

"  I  have  a  hundred  head  of  horses,  vs'orth  three  hundred 
and  four  hundred  roubles  apiece,  —  only  they  are  not 
your  kind  of  horses.  Three  hundred  in  silver !  They  are 
race-horses,  you  know  —     But  I  love  yours  better." 

"  Did  you  come  here  of  your  own  will,  or  not  ? " 
asked  Lukashka,  as  though  in  ridicule.  "  You  are  off  your 
path,"  he  added,  pointing  to  the  road  near  which  they 
were  passing.     "  Keep  to  the  right ! " 

"  Just  of  my  own  free  will,"  answered  Ol^nin.  "  I 
wanted  to  see  your  country,  and  take  part  in  expeditions." 

"  I  should  like  myself  to  go  out  with  an  expedition," 
said  Lukashka.  "  Do  you  hear  how  the  jackals  are  howl- 
ing ? "  he  added,  listening  attentively. 

"  Tell  me,  do  you  not  feel  terribly  at  having  killed  a 
man  ?  "  Olenin  asked. 

"  What  am  I  to  be  afraid  of  ?  I  would  gladly  take 
part  in  an  expedition  ! "  Lukashka  repeated.  "  I  am  so 
anxious,  so  anxious  —  " 

"  Maybe  we  will  go  together.  Our  company  and  yours, 
too,  will  move  before  the  holidays." 

"  What  pleasure  do  you  see  in  coming  here  ?  You  have 
a  house,  and  horses,  and  slaves.  I  would  be  celebrating 
all  the  time.     Have  you  any  rank  ? " 

"  I  am  a  yunker,  and  recommended  for  advancement." 

"  Well,  if  you  are  not  bragging  about  the  things  you 
possess,  I  would  not  have  left  my  home.  I  would  not 
leave  it  anyway.     Do  you  like  our  life  ? " 

"  Yes  ;  very  much,"  said  Olenin. 

It  was  quite  dark  when  they,  conversing  in  this  man- 
ner, reached  the  village.  The  darkness  of  the  forest  still 
surrounded  them.  The  wind  howled  high  in  the  tree- 
tops.  The  jackals,  it  seemed,  suddenly  moaned,  laughed, 
and  cried  near  them ;  but  in  front  of  them,  in  the  village, 


208  THE   COSSACKS 

were  heard  the  talk  of  women  and  barking  of  dogs ;  and 
the  outlines  of  cabins  were  clearly  defined,  and  lights 
gleamed,  and  the  air  was  redolent  with  the  odour,  the 
particular  odour,  of  dung-chip  smoke.  Ol^nin  felt,  more 
especially  on  that  evening,  that  here  was  his  house,  his 
family,  all  his  happiness,  and  that  nowhere  had  he  lived, 
or  ever  should  live,  as  happily  as  in  this  village.  That 
evening  he  loved  everybody,  but  particularly  Lukashka ! 
When  they  arrived  home,  Ol^nin,  to  Lukashka's  great 
astonishment,  brought  out  of  the  stable  a  horse  which 
he  had  bought  at  Grdznaya,  —  not  the  one  on  which  he 
always  rode,  but  another,  —  not  a  bad-looking,  though  not 
a  very  young  horse,  and  gave  it  to  him. 

"  Why  should  you  make  a  gift  to  me  ? "  said  Lukashka. 
"  I  have  done  you  no  service." 

"  Truly,  it  does  not  cost  me  anything,"  replied  Olenin. 
"  Take  it,  and  you  will  make  me  some  gift  —  We  will 
go  into  the  expedition  together." 

Lukashka  was  embarrassed. 

"  Hov/  is  that  ?  A  horse  costs  something,"  he  said, 
without  looking  at  the  horse. 

"  Take  it,  do  take  it !  You  will  offend  me  if  you  do 
not  take  it !     Vanyusha,  take  the  gray  out  to  him  !  " 

Lukashka  took  hold  of  the  bridle. 

"  I  thank  you.     Well,  that  was  unexpected." 

Olenin  was  as  happy  as  a  twelve-year-old  boy. 

"  Tie  him  up  here  !  It  is  a  good  horse,  I  bought  him  in 
Grdznaya,  and  he  is  a  fine  trotter.  Vanyusha,  let  us  have 
some  red  wine  !     Come  into  the  house  ! " 

The  wine  was  brought.  Lukashka  sat  down  and  took 
the  wine-bowl. 

"  God  will  give  me  a  chance  to  do  you  a  good  turn,"  he 
said,  drinking  the  wine.     "  What  is  your  name  ? " 

"  Dmitri  Andr^evich." 

"  Well,  Mitri  Audr^evich,  God  preserve  you.  We  will  be 
chums.     Now,  you  must  come  to  see  us  sometime.     We 


THE   COSSACKS  209 

are  not  rich  people,  but  will  know  how  to  treat  a  guest. 
I  will  tell  mother  to  let  you  have  boiled  cream  or  grapes, 
or  whatever  else  you  may  need.  And  whenever  you  come 
to  the  cordon,  I  will  be  your  servant,  —  whether  on  the 
hunt,  or  across  the  river,  or  wherever  you  may  wish.  A 
pity  I  did  not  know  you  the  other  day.  I  killed  a  fine 
boar !  I  divided  him  up  among  the  Cossacks,  or  I  would 
have  brought  him  to  you." 

"  All  right,  I  thank  you.  Only  do  not  hitch  him  to  a 
team,  for  he  has  never  been  hitched  before." 

"  Who  would  hitch  a  horse  ?  I  will  tell  you  some- 
thing," Lukashka  said,  lowering  his  head.  "  I  have  a 
chum,  Gir^y-khan  by  name.  He  called  me  to  lie  in 
ambush  on  the  road  where  people  from  the  mountains 
pass  by ;  so  we  will  go  together.  I  will  not  give  you 
away,  I  will  be  your  trusty  friend." 

"  We  will  go  there  sometime." 

Lukashka  seemed  to  be  quite  at  ease,  and  to  under- 
stand Olenin's  relations  with  him.  His  calm  and  sim- 
plicity of  address  surprised  Ol^nin  and  even  annoyed  him 
a  little.  They  talked  together  for  quite  awhile,  and  it 
was  late  when  Lukashka,  not  drunk  (he  never  was),  but 
well  filled  with  wine,  pressed  Olenin's  hand  and  left  his 
room. 

Oldnin  looked  out  of  the  window  to  see  what  he 
would  do  after  leaving  him.  Lukashka  walked  slowly, 
with  drooping  head.  Then,  when  he  had  taken  the  horse 
outside  the  gate,  he  suddenly  shook  his  head,  jumped  upon 
him  like  a  cat,  threw  the  reins  of  the  halter  over  his 
head,  and,  shouting,  galloped  down  the  street.  Olenin 
had  imagined  that  he  would  go  to  share  his  joy  with 
Maryauka ;  but  even  though  Lukashka  had  not  done  so, 
Olenin  felt  as  happy  as  never  before  in  his  life.  He  was 
as  joyful  as  a  child,  and  could  not  keep  from  telling 
Vanyusha,  not  only  about  his  having  given  the  horse  to 
Lukashka,  but  why  he  had  made  him  that  gift,  and  also 


210  THE    COSSACKS 

about  his  new  theory  of  happiness.  Vanyusha  did  not 
approve  of  this  theory,  and  he  explained  that  Largent  il 
n'y  a  pas,  and  consequently  it  was  all  nonsense. 

Lukashka  rode  home,  leaped  from  his  horse,  and  gave 
it  to  his  mother,  with  the  injunction  to  let  it  out  to  pas- 
ture with  the  Cossack  herd ;  but  he  himself  had  to  return 
that  very  night  to  the  cordon.  The  dumb  girl  promised 
to  take  down  the  horse,  and  she  explained  by  signs  that 
she  would  make  her  low  obeisance  to  the  man  who  had 
given  him  the  horse,  as  soon  as  she  should  see  him.  The 
old  woman  only  shook  her  head  at  her  sou's  recital,  and 
in  her  heart  decided  that  Lukashka  had  stolen  the  horse, 
and  so  she  ordered  the  dumb  girl  to  take  him  to  pasture 
before  daybreak. 

Lukashka  went  alone  to  the  cordon,  all  the  time  revolv- 
ing in  his  mind  01(5uiu's  act.  Though  the  horse,  in  his 
opinion,  was  not  a  good  one,  yet  it  was  worth  at  least  forty 
roubles,  and  Lukashka  was  very  happy  with  the  gift. 
But  he  could  not  understand  why  this  gift  was  made,  and 
so  he  did  not  feel  the  least  gratitude.  On  the  contrary, 
indistinct  suspicions  of  the  yunker's  evil  intentions  dis- 
quieted his  mind.  What  these  intentions  were,  he  could 
not  make  out,  but  it  seemed  impossible  to  him  to  admit 
the  thought  that  a  stranger  would  give  him  a  horse  worth 
forty  roubles  for  no  reason  whatsoever,  and  just  out  of 
kindness.  It  would  be  a  different  matter  if  he  had  been 
intoxicated,  and  wanted  to  show  off.  But  the  yunker  had 
been  sober,  consequently  he  wanted  to  bribe  him  for 
some  bad  deed, 

"  That's  where  you  are  mistaken  ! "  thought  Lukashka. 
"  I  have  the  horse,  and  as  for  the  rest,  we  will  see.  I  am 
not  as  stupid  as  all  that.  We  will  see  who  will  cheat 
whom ! "  he  thought,  feeling  the  need  of  being  on  guard 
against  Ol^nin,  and  therefore  of  arousing  in  himself  a  hos- 
tile feeling  toward  him.  He  did  not  tell  anybody  how  he 
had  come,  by  his  horse.     He  told  some  he  had  bought 


THE    COSSACKS  211 

him,  and  gave  evasive  answers  to  others.  Still  the  people 
of  the  village  soon  learned  the  truth.  Lukashka's  mother, 
Maryanka,  Ilya  Vasilevich,  and  other  Cossacks,  who  were 
informed  of  Ol^nin's  causeless  gift,  were  perplexed,  and 
began  to  fear  the  yunker.  In  spite  of  these  fears,  the 
deed  aroused  their  great  respect  for  Ol^nin's  simplicity 
and  wealth. 

"  Listen,  the  yunker  who  is  lodged  at  Ilya  Vasilevich's 
gave  Lukashka  a  horse  worth  fifty  roubles,"  said  one. 
"  He  is  rich  ! " 

"  I  have  heard  so,"  answered  another,  thoughtfully. 
"  He  must  have  done  him  some  service.  We  shall  see, 
we  shall  see  what  he  will  do !  That's  the  '  Saver's ' 
luck  ! " 

"  These  yunkers  are  an  awful  lot  of  cheats,"  said  a 
tliird.  "  He'll  burn  down  a  house,  or  do  something 
worse  yet." 


XXIII. 

Olenin's  life  ran  monotonously  and  smoothly.  He 
had  little  to  do  with  the  authorities  or  his  companions. 
The  position  of  a  rich  yunker  in  the  Caucasus  is  in 
this  respect  exceedingly  advantageous.  He  was  not  sent 
out  to  work  or  to  military  drill.  For  his  services  in 
an  expedition  he  was  recommended  for  advancement  as  a 
regular  officer,  but  in  the  meantime  he  was  left  alone. 
The  officers  regarded  him  as  an  aristocrat,  and  therefore 
were  on  their  dignity  in  their  relations  with  him.  Card- 
playing  and  the  carousals  of  the  officers,  accompanied  by 
singing,  which  were  common  in  the  army,  did  not  appear 
attractive  to  him,  and  he  kept  aloof  from  the  society  of 
the  officers  and  from  their  life  in  the  village. 

The  life  of  the  officers  in  the  Cossack  villages  has  for 
a  long  time  had  a  definite  character.  Just  as  every 
yunker  or  officer  in  the  fortress  regularly  drinks  porter, 
gambles  at  cards,  and  talks  of  rewards  for  services  in 
expeditions,  so  he  in  the  villages  regularly  drinks  red 
wine  with  the  landlord,  treats  the  girls  to  cakes  and 
honey,  fhrts  with  the  Cossack  girls,  with  whom  he  falls 
in  love ;  and  sometimes  he  gets  married.  Ol^nin  always 
lived  in  his  own  peculiar  manner,  and  had  an  uncon- 
scious aversion  for  beaten  paths.  Nor  did  he  follow 
here  the  beaten  track  of  the  life  of  an  officer  in  the 
Caucasus. 

Without  making  any  exertion,  he  woke  with  the  day- 
light. After  drinking  his  tea  and  admiring  from  his 
porch  the  mountains,  the  morning,  and  Maryanka,  he  put 

212 


THE    COSSACKS  213 

on  a  torn  ox-hide  coat,  the  soaked  buckskins,  girded  on 
his  dagger,  took  his  gun,  a  pouch  with  a  lunch  and 
tobacco,  called  his  dog,  and  after  five  o'clock  in  the  morn- 
ing walked  into  the  forest  back  of  the  village.  At  about 
seven  o'clock  in  the  evening  he  returned,  tired,  famished, 
with  five  or  six  pheasants  in  his  belt,  sometimes  with 
a  larger  animal,  while  the  pouch  with  the  lunch  and 
cigarettes  remained  untouched.  If  the  thoughts  in  his 
head  had  remained  like  the  cigarettes  in  his  pouch,  it 
would  be  easy  to  see  that  not  one  thought  had  stii-red 
there  in  the  course  of  these  fourteen  hours.  He  returned 
home  morally  fresh,  strong,  and  completely  happy.  It 
would  have  been  difficult  for  him  to  say  what  he  had 
been  thinking  about  during  all  that  time.  Not  thoughts, 
not  recollections,  not  dreams,  were  rummaging  through  his 
brain,  —  there  were  only  fragments  of  all  these.  He 
sometimes  stopped  to  ask  himself  what  it  was  he  was 
thinking  about,  and  he  discovered  himself  as  a  Cossack 
working  with  his  wife  in  the  gardens,  or  as  an  abr^k  in 
the  mountains,  or  as  a  boar  running  away  from  himself. 
And  all  this  time  he  listened,  watched,  and  waited  for 
a  pheasant,  boar,  or  stag. 

In  the  evening  Uncle  Eroshka  was  sure  to  be  at  his 
house.  Vanyiisha  brought  an  eighth  measure  of  wine, 
and  they  conversed  softly  and  drank,  and  separated  for 
the  night  well  contented.  On  the  following  day  there 
was  again  hunting,  again  healthful  fatigue,  again  the  wine- 
drinking  and  chatting,  and  again  the  contentment.  Some- 
times, on  a  holiday  or  day  of  rest,  he  passed  a  whole  day 
at  home.  Then  his  chief  interest  was  Maryanka,  every 
motion  of  whom  he  eagerly  watched,  without  being  con- 
scious of  it,  from  his  window  or  from  his  porch.  He 
gazed  at  Maryanka,  and  loved  her  (so  he  thought)  as 
he  loved  the  beauty  of  the  mountains  and  of  the  sky,  and 
did  not  think  of  entering  into  any  relations  with  her.  It 
seemed  to  liim  that  between  him  and  her  could  not  exist 


214  THE    COSSACKS 

the  relations  that  were  possible  between  her  and  Cossack 
Lukashka,  and  still  less  the  relations  that  were  possible 
between  a  wealthy  officer  and  a  Cossack  maiden.  It 
appeared  to  him  that  if  he  tried  to  do  what  his  com- 
panions were  doing,  he  would  exchange  his  full  enjoy- 
ment and  contemplation  for  an  abyss  of  torments, 
disappointments,  and  regrets.  Besides,  in  relation  to 
this  woman  he  had  already  accomplished  the  feat  of  self- 
renunciation,  which  had  afforded  him  so  much  pleasure ; 
but,  above  all,  he  was  for  some  reason  afraid  of  Maryanka, 
and  would  not  dare  to  utter  one  word  of  pleasantry  to 
her. 

One  summer  day  Ol^nin  did  not  go  out  hunting,  and 
remained  at  home.  Quite  unexpectedly  a  Moscow  ac- 
quaintance of  his,  a  very  young  man  whom  he  used  to 
meet  in  society,  entered  his  room. 

"  Ah,  mon  cher,  my  dear,  how  happy  I  was  to  learn 
that  you  were  here ! "  he  began,  in  his  Moscow  French 
jargon,  and  he  continued  to  interlard  his  speech  with 
French  words.  "  I  heard  them  say  '  OMnin.'  What 
01(5nin  ?  I  was  so  rejoiced  —  So  fate  has  brought  us 
together.  Well,  how  are  you  ?  What  are  you  doing  ? 
And  why  here  ?  " 

Prince  Byel^tski  told  him  his  whole  story :  how  he 
had  joined  the  regiment  for  awhile,  how  the  commander- 
in-chief  had  asked  him  to  be  his  adjutant,  and  how  he 
would  enter  his  service  after  the  expedition,  although 
he  was  not  in  the  least  interested  in  the  matter. 

"  If  I  serve  here,  in  this  wilderness,  I  must  at  least 
make  a  career  —  a  cross  —  rank  —  and  be  transferred 
to  the  Guards.  All  this  is  necessary,  not  for  my  own 
sake,  but  for  my  relatives,  for  my  friends.  The  prince 
has  received  me  very  well ;  he  is  a  very  nice  kind  of 
man,"  said  Byel^tski,  without  taking  breath.  "I  have 
been  recommended  for  an  Anna  decoration  for  services 
in  the  expedition.     Now  I  am  going  to  stay  here  to  the 


THE    COSSACKS  215 

next  campaign.  It  is  superb  here.  What  women  !  Well, 
and  how  do  you  pass  your  time  ?  Our  captain  —  you 
know  Stratsev,  a  kind-hearted,  stupid  creature  —  told  me 
that  you  lived  here  like  a  terrible  savage,  that  you  had 
nothing  to  do  with  anybody.  I  understand  that  you  do 
not  wish  to  become  closely  acquainted  with  the  officers. 
I  am  glad  we  shall  be  able  to  see  something  of  each 
other.  I  am  lodging  with  the  under-officer.  What  a 
girl  his  Ustenka  is  !     I  tell  you  she  is  fine  !  " 

And  more  and  more  French  and  Eussian  words  from 
that  society  which  OMnin  thought  he  had  for  ever  aban- 
doned were  poured  forth  by  him.  The  common  opinion 
was  that  Byeletski  was  a  dear,  good-natured  fellow. 
Maybe  he  really  was;  but  to  Olenin  he  appeared,  in 
spite  of  his  good-natured,  handsome  face,  exceedingly 
disagreeable ;  he  brought  with  him  a  strong  breath  of  all 
that  loathsomeness  which  he  had  renounced.  But  he  was 
most  annoyed  because  he  could  not,  positively  did  not, 
have  the  strength  to  push  away  from  himself  that  man 
from  that  society,  as  though  that  old  past  society  had 
some  inalienable  rights  upon  him.  He  was  angry  at 
Byeletski  and  at  himself,  and  against  his  will  mingled 
French  phrases  with  his  conversation,  took  interest  in 
the  commander-in-chief  and  his  Moscow  acquaintances, 
and,  on  the  basis  of  their  speaking  a  French  jargon  in 
a  Cossack  village,  referred  with  contempt  to  liis  fellow 
officers,  and  to  the  Cossacks,  and  treated  Byeletski  in  a 
friendly  manner,  promising  to  call  on  him,  and  asking 
him  to  come  to  see  him.  However,  Olenin  never  called 
on  Byeletski.  Vanyiisha  approved  of  Byeletski,  saying 
that  he  was  a  real  gentleman. 

Byeletski  at  once  took  up  the  customary  life  of  a  rich 
Caucasus  officer  in  the  village.  Olenin  could  see  his  rapid 
evolution :  in  one  month  he  appeared  to  be  an  old  inhabi- 
tant of  the  village ;  he  treated  the  old  men,  gave  evening 
parties,  and  liimself  went  to  girls'  evening  parties,  boasted 


216  THE    COSSACKS 

of  his  conquests,  and  even  went  so  far  that  the  girls  and 
women  for  some  reason  called  him  little  grandfather, 
wliile  the  Cossacks,  who  had  formed  a  clear  idea  about 
the  man  who  was  fond  of  wine  and  women,  became  ac- 
customed to  him,  and  even  hked  Mm  better  than  Ol^nin, 
who  remained  a  puzzle  to  them. 


XXIV. 

It  was  five  o'clock  in  the  morning.  Vanyusha  was  on 
the  porch,  fanning  the  samovar  with  his  bootleg.  Ol^uin 
had  already  ridden  down  to  the  T^rek  to  bathe.  (He 
had  lately  discovered  a  new  amusement,  to  bathe  his 
horse  in  the  T^rek.)  The  landlady  was  in  the  dairy, 
from  the  chimney  of  which  rose  the  dense  black  smoke 
of  the  oven  in  which  a  fire  had  just  been  kindled ;  the 
girl  was  milking  the  buffalo  cow  in  the  stall.  "  Stand 
still,  accursed  one ! "  was  heard  her  impatient  voice,  and 
soon  after  followed  the  even  sound  of  milking. 

On  the  street,  near  the  house,  was  heard  the  brisk 
tramp  of  the  horse,  and  Oleniu,  on  his  beautiful,  dark 
gray  horse,  sliining  with  wet,  rode  bareback  up  to  the 
gate.  Maryanka's  fair  head,  wrapped  in  a  red  kerchief, 
stuck  out  of  the  stall  and  again  disappeared.  Ol^nin 
wore  a  red  shirt  of  Persian  silk,  a  white  mantle,  girded 
by  a  leather  strap  with  a  dagger  in  it,  and  a  tall  cap.  He 
sat  rather  jauntily  on  the  wet  back  of  his  well-fed  horse, 
and,  holding  his  gun  on  liis  back,  bent  over  to  open  the 
gate.  His  hair  was  still  wet,  his  face  was  aglow  with 
youth  and  health. 

He  thought  he  was  handsome,  agile,  and  resembling  a 
brave ;  but  that  was  a  mistake.  To  the  eye  of  every  ex- 
perienced inhabitant  of  the  Caucasus  he  was  still  a  soldier. 
When  he  noticed  the  girl's  head  thrust  forward,  he  made 
a  special  effort  to  bend  down  gracefully,  and,  opening  the 
gate  and  holding  the  bridle,  cracked  his  whip,  and  rode 

into  the  yard. 

217 


218  THE   COSSACKS 

"  Is  tea  ready,  Vanyusha  ? "  he  cried,  merrily,  without 
looking  at  the  stall.  It  gave  liim  pleasure  to  feel  his 
beautiful  horse  contracting  the  crupper,  begging  for  loose 
reins,  and  swelUng  every  muscle,  ready  to  leap  with  all 
feet  at  once  over  the  fence,  and  striking  the  dried  up  clay 
of  the  yard  with  his  hoofs. 
,     "  Cest  pret  !  "  answered  Vanyusha. 

Ol^nin  thought  that  Maryanka's  beautiful  head  was 
still  looking  out  of  the  shed,  but  he  did  not  glance  in  that 
direction.  Leaping  down  from  his  horse,  Ol^nin  caught 
his  gun  in  the  porch ;  he  made  an  awkward  motion,  and 
looked  in  a  frightened  manner  toward  the  stall,  where  no 
one  could  be  seen,  though  the  even  sound  of  milking  was 
still  heard. 

He  walked  into  the  house,  and  a  little  later  came  out 
again  on  the  porch,  and,  with  a  book  and  a  pipe,  sat  down 
to  drink  liis  tea  on  the  side  which  was  not  yet  reached 
by  the  oblique  rays  of  the  sun.  He  did  not  expect  to  go 
out  in  the  forenoon,. and  intended  to  write  some  long- 
delayed  letters ;  but  he  somehow  was  loath  to  leave  his 
snug  corner  on  the  porch,  and  the  room  appeared  hke  a 
prison  to  him.  The  landlady  had  built  the  fire,  the  girl 
had  driven  out  the  cattle,  and,  upon  returning,  began  to 
collect  the  dung  and  to  shng  it  against  the  fence  to  get  it 
dry. 

01(5nin  was  reading,  but  he  did  not  understand  a  word 
of  what  was  said  in  the  book  which  lay  open  before  him. 
He  kept  tearing  his  eyes  away  from  it,  and  gazing  at  the 
moving  figure  of  the  well-built  young  woman  in  front  of 
him.  Whether  she  walked  into  the  damp  morning  shade 
made  by  the  house,  or  whether  she  came  out  into  the 
middle  of  the  yard,  illuminated  by  the  cheerful  splendour 
of  the  young  sun,  where  her  stately  figure  in  the  brightly 
coloured  dress  gleamed  and  cast  a  black  shadow,  —  he 
was  equally  afraid  of  missing  even  one  of  her  motions. 
It  gave  him  pleasure  to  see  how  freely  and  gracefully  she 


THE    COSSACKS  219 

bent  her  frame ;  how  the  rose-coloured  shirt,  which  con- 
stituted her  only  attire,  draped  itself  on  her  bosom  and 
along  her  shapely  legs ;  how  she  unbent  herself,  and  how 
under  her  tightly  fitting  shirt  the  firm  lines  of  her  heaving 
breast  stood  out ;  how  the  narrow  soles  of  her  feet,  clad 
in  old  red  shoes,  planted  themselves  on  the  ground,  with- 
out changing  their  form  ;  how  her  powerful  arms,  with 
sleeves  rolled  up,  contracted  tlieir  muscles  as  she  wielded 
the  shovel  as  though  in  anger  ;  and  how  her  deep  black 
eyes  sometimes  gazed  at  him.  Though  her  delicate  eye- 
brows now  and  then  gathered  into  a  frown,  her  eyes  ex- 
pressed pleasure  and  consciousness  of  her  beauty. 

"  Well,  01^nin,'have  you  been  up  long  ?  "  said  Byel^tski, 
in  the  coat  of  an  officer  of  the  Caucasus,  coming  into  the 
yard  and  turning  to  OMnin. 

"  Ah  !  ByeMtski !  "  replied  Ol^nin,  extending  his  hand. 
"  What  brings  you  so  early  ? " 

"  What  can  I  do  ?  They  sent  me  away.  There  is  a 
party  at  my  house  to-night.  Maryanka,  you  will  come 
to  Ustenka's  ? "  he  said,  turning  to  the  girl. 

Ol^niu  was  amazed  to  hear  Byel^tski  address  that 
woman  in  such  a  familiar  fashion.  But  Maryanka,  as 
though  not  hearing  what  he  said,  bent  her  head,  and, 
throwing  the  shovel  across  her  shoulder,  walked  to  the 
dairy  with  her  brisk,  manly  strides. 

"  She  is  embarrassed,  my  friend,  she  is  embarrassed," 
Byel^tski  said,  as  she  walked  away,  "  she  is  embarrassed 
in  your  presence,"  and,  smiling  cheerfully,  he  ran  up  the 
steps. 

"  What  party  is  that  ?     Wlio  has  sent  you  away  ? " 

"  At  Ustenka's,  my  landlady's,  there  is  a  party,  and  you 
are  invited,  A  party,  —  that  is,  cakes  and  a  gathering  of 
girls." 

"  What  are  we  going  to  do  there  ? " 

ByeMtski  smiled  slyly,  and,  winking,  pointed  with  his 
head  to  the  dairy  where  Maryanka  had  disappeared. 


220  THE    COSSACKS 

Ol^niu  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  blushed. 

"  Upon  my  word,  you  are  a  strange  man  ! "  he  said. 
«  Well,  tell  me  ! " 

Ol^nin  scowled.  Byel^tslci  noticed  this,  and  smiled,  as 
though  begging  his  pardon.  "  Really,  I  pray,"  he  said, 
"  you  are  living  in  the  same  house  with  her ;  and  she  is 
such  a  fine  girl,  an  excellent  girl,  a  perfect  beauty  —  " 

"  A  wonderful  beauty  !  I  have  never  seen  such  women 
before  ! "  said  Ol^nin. 

"  Well  ? "  asked  Byel^tski,  quite  perplexed. 

"  It  may  be  strange,"  replied  Olt^nin,  "  but  why  should 
I  not  tell  the  truth  ?  Women,  it  seems,  have  not  existed 
for  me  ever  since  I  have  been  living  here.  And  it  is 
good  so,  really  it  is  !  Well,  what  can  we  have  in  common 
with  these  women  ?  It  is  different  with  Eroshka ;  we 
have  a  common  passion  —  hunting." 

"  Well,  I  declare  !  What  is  there  in  common  ?  What 
have  I  in  common  with  Amalia  Ivanovna  ?  It  is  the 
same  thing.  You  will  say  that  they  are  rather  dirty. 
That  is  another  matter.  A  la  guerre,  comme  db  la 
guerre  !  " 

"  But  I  have  never  known  any  Amalia  Ivanovnas,  and 
never  could  get  along  with  them,"  replied  01(5nin.  "  But 
one  could  not  respect  those  women,  whereas  these  here  I 
respect." 

"  Keep  on  respecting  them  !     Nobody  prevents  you  ! " 

Ol^nin  did  not  reply.  He  evidently  wanted  to  finish 
what  he  had  begun  to  say.     It  lay  near  to  his  heart. 

"  I  know  that  I  am  an  exception."  (He  was  evidently 
embarrassed.)  "  My  life  has  arranged  itself  in  such  a  way 
that  I  see  no  necessity  whatsoever  of  changing  my  rules ; 
I  could  not  even  live  here,  let  alone  live  as  happily,  as  I 
do,  if  I  lived  in  your  fashion.  And  besides,  I  am  looking 
for  something  else,  and  see  something  quite  different  from 
what  you  do." 

Byel^tski  raised  his  brows  incredulously. 


THE    COSSACKS  221 

"  All  the  same,  come  to  my  house  to-night.  Maryanka 
will  be  there,  and  I  will  make  you  acquainted.  Do  come  ! 
Well,  if  you  find  it  dull  you  can  go  away.  Will  you 
come  ? " 

"  I  would  come ;  but,  to  tell  you  the  truth,  I  am  seri- 
ously afraid  of  being  carried  away." 

"  Oh,  oh,  oh  ! "  cried  Byel^tski.  "  Only  come,  and  I  will 
keep  you  down.    Will  you  come  ?    Your  word  of  honour  ?  " 

"  I  would  come,  but,  really,  I  do  not  understand  what 
we  shall  do  there,  and  what  part  we  shall  play  there," 

"  Please,  I  beg  you.     Will  you  come  ? " 

"  Yes,  I  will,  perhaps,"  said  Olenin. 

"  You  see  for  yourself  that  here  are  the  most  charming 
women  in  the  world,  and  yet  you  live  like  a  monk !  Who 
would  ever  think  of  such  a  thing  ?  Who  would  want  to 
spoil  his  life,  and  not  to  make  use  of  what  there  is  ? 
Have  you  heard,  our  company  will  go  to  Yozdvizh^n- 
skaya  ? " 

"  Hardly.  I  was  told  that  Company  Eight  is  going," 
said  Olenin. 

"  No,  I  have  received  a  letter  from  the  adjutant.  He 
writes  that  the  prince  himself  will  be  in  the  expedition. 
I  am  glad  of  it,  —  I  shall  see  him.  I  am  beginning  to 
be  bored  here." 

"  They  say  there  will  be  an  incursion  soon." 

"  I  have  not  heard  it ;  but  I  have  heard  that  Krinovitsyn 
got  an  Anna  decoration  for  services  in  an  excursion.  He 
expected  a  lieutenancy,"  said  Byel^tski,  laughing.  "  That 
was  a  disappointment  to  him.  He  has  gone  to  see  the 
staff  about  it  —  " 

It  was  growing  dark,  and  Olenin  began  to  think  of  the 
evening  party.  The  invitation  tormented  him.  He  wanted 
to  go,  but  the  thought  of  what  was  going  to  happen  there 
seemed  to  him  strange,  preposterous,  and  a  little  terrifying. 
He  knew  that  there  would  be  there  no  Cossacks,  no  old 
women,  but  only  girls.    What  would  happen  there  ?    How 


222  THE    COSSACKS 

was  he  to  conduct  himself  ?  What  was  he  to  say  ?  AVhat 
would  they  say  ?  What  relations  were  there  between 
him  and  those  wild  Cossack  girls  ?  Byel^tski  had  been 
telling  him  of  such  strange,  cynical,  and  at  the  same  time 
strict  relations  —  It  was  strange  to  him  to  think  that 
he  would  be  there  in  oue  room  with  Maryanka,  and  that, 
perhaps,  he  would  have  to  speak  to  her.  This  seemed 
impossible  to  him  whenever  he  recalled  her  majestic  bear- 
ing. ByeMtski  had  told  him  that  all  that  was  quite 
simple.  "  Is  it  possible  Byel^tski  would  treat  Maryanka 
in  the  same  manner  ?  It  would  be  interesting,"  he  thought. 
"  No,  I  had  better  not  go.  All  this  is  vile,  and  contempt- 
ible, and,  above  all,  leads  to  nothing."  But  again  the 
question  tormented  him  :  "  What  will  it  be  ?  "  and  he  was 
to  a  certain  extent  bound  by  his  promise.  He  went,  still 
undecided  what  to  do,  but  upon  reacliing  ByeMtski's  he 
stepped  in. 

The  cabin  in  which  ByeMtski  lived  was  just  like 
Ol^nin's.  It  was  raised  on  posts  about  six  feet  from  the 
ground,  and  consisted  of  two  rooms.  In  the  first,  which 
Olt^niu  reached  by  a  steep  little  staircase,  lay  feather  beds, 
rugs,  quilts,  and  pillows,  beautifully  and  elegantly  piled 
up  against  each  other  in  Cossack  fashion  along  the  front 
wall.  On  the  side  walls  hung  brass  basins  and  weapons ; 
under  the  l)ench  lay  watermelons  and  pumpkins.  In  the 
second  room  was  a  large  oven,  a  table,  benches,  and  Dis- 
senter images.  Here  ByeMtski  had  his  lodgings,  with 
his  folding  bed,  travelling  portmanteaus,  rug,  on  which 
his  weapons  were  hanging,  and  with  toilet  articles  and 
portraits  scattered  about  the  table.  A  silk  dressing-gown 
was  flung  upon  a  bench.  Byel^tski  himself,  handsome 
and  clean,  lay  in  his  underwear  on  the  bed,  reading  "  Les 
Trois  Mousquetaires." 

Byel^tski  jumped  up. 

"  You  see  hov/  I  am  fixed  ?  Fine  ?  I  am  glad  you 
have  come.     They  have  been  working  terribly.     Do  you 


THE    COSSACKS  223 

know  what  a  pie  is  made  of  ?  Of  dough,  with  lard  and 
grapes.  But  that  is  not  the  point.  Just  see  how  busy 
they  are ! " 

Indeed,  as  they  looked  out  of  the  window,  they  saw 
an  unusual  turmoil  in  the  landlady's  cabin.  The  girls 
kept  running  in  and  out  of  the  vestibule,  with  one  thing 
or  another. 

"  Will  it  be  soon  ?  "  cried  Byel^tski. 

"Eight  away!  Are  you  starved,  grandfather?"  and 
melodious  laughter  was  heard  in  the  cabin. 

Ustenka,  plump,  red-cheeked,  pretty,  with  rolled  up 
sleeves,  ran  into  Byel^tski's  room  to  fetch  the  plates. 

"  Keep  away !  I  almost  broke  the  plates,"  she  shrieked 
at  Byeli^tski.  "  You  had  better  go  and  help  us,"  she  cried, 
laughing,  at  Ol^nin.  "  And  get  the  cakes  and  candy  for 
the  girls." 

"  Has  Maryanka  come  ?  "  asked  Byel^tski. 

"  Of  course.     She  brought  some  dough." 

"  Do  3^ou  know,"  said  Byel(^tski,  "  if  one  were  to  dress 
up  this  Ustenka,  and  clean  her  up  a  little,  and  primp  her, 
she  would  be  more  beautiful  than  any  of  our  beauties. 
Have  you  seen  the  Cossack  woman  Bdrshchev  ?  She 
married  a  colonel.  Superb!  What  dignite  !  Where  did 
they  get  it  all  —  " 

"  I  have  not  seen  Mrs.  Bdrshchev  ;  but,  in  my  opinion, 
there  can  be  nothing  more  beautiful  than  this  attire." 

"  Ah,  I  can  so  easily  adapt  myself  to  any  life ! "  said 
Byeletski,  drawing  a  sigh  of  delight.  "  I  will  go  and  take 
a  look  at  what  they  are  doing." 

He  put  on  his  dressing-gown,  and  ran  out. 

"  You  take  care  of  the  refreshments  ! "  he  cried. 

OMnin  sent  Byel^tski's  orderly  for  cake  and  honey. 
It  seemed  so  detestable  to  him  to  give  money,  as  though 
he  were  bribing  some  one,  that  he  did  not  give  any  definite 
answer  to  the  orderly's  question,  "  How  many  peppermint- 
cakes,  and  how  many  honey-cakes  ?  " 


224  THE    COSSACKS 

"  I  leave  it  to  you." 

"  For  all  this  money  ? "  the  old  soldier  asked,  significantly. 
"  Peppermint-cakes  cost  more.  They  sell  them  at  sixteen 
kopeks." 

"  For  all  the  money,  for  all,"  said  Ol^nin,  sitting  down 
at  the  window  and  wondering  why  it  was  his  heart  was 
fluttering  as  though  he  were  preparing  himself  to  do  some- 
thing important  but  bad. 

He  heard  shouting  and  screaming  in  the  room  where 
the  girls  were,  the  moment  By^letski  had  entered  there, 
and  a  few  minutes  later  he  saw  him  jump  out  from  it  and 
run  down  the  stairs,  accompanied  by  shrieks,  laughter, 
and  a  general  hubbub. 

"  They  have  driven  me  out,"  he  said. 

A  few  minutes  later,  Ustenka  came  into  the  room  and 
solemnly  invited  the  guests,  announcing  that  everything 
was  ready. 

When  they  entered  the  room,  they  really  found  every- 
thing ready,  and  Ustenka  was  arranging  the  feather  pil- 
lows against  the  wall.  On  the  table,  which  was  covered 
with  a  disproportionately  small  napkin,  stood  a  decanter 
of  red  wine  and  some  dried  fish.  The  room  was  redolent 
with  pastry  and  grapes.  Some  six  girls,  in  holiday  half- 
coats  and  with  bare  heads,  contrary  to  the  common  rule, 
were  keeping  in  the  corner  behind  the  oven,  whispering, 
laughing,  and  giggling. 

"  I  beg  you  humbly  to  honour  my  patron  saint,"  said 
Ustenka,  inviting  the  guests  to  the  table. 

Olenin  had  discovered  Maryanka  in  the  crowd  of  girls, 
who  were  all  without  exception  beautiful,  and  he  felt 
annoyed  and  pained  because  he  made  her  closer  acquaint- 
ance under  such  awkward  and  detestable  circumstances. 
He  felt  foolish  and  uncomfortable,  and  decided  to  follow 
Byel^tski's  example.  Byel^tski  went  up  to  the  table 
somewhat  solemnly,  but  with  ease  and  self-confidence, 
drank  a  glass  to  Ustenka's  health,  and  invited  the  rest  to 


THE   COSSACKS  225 

do  likewise.  Ustenka  declared  that  the  girls  did  not 
drink. 

"  With  honey  we  could,"  said  a  voice  in  the  crowd  of 
the  girls. 

The  orderly,  who  had  just  returned  from  the  shop  with 
the  honey  and  the  refreshments,  was  called  in.  The 
orderly  glanced  with  a  scowl,  partly  of  envy,  and  partly 
of  contempt,  at  the  gentlemen,  who,  in  his  opinion,  were 
having  a  celebration,  carefully  and  scrupulously  turned 
over  the  piece  of  the  honeycomb  and  the  cakes  which 
were  wrapped  in  gray  paper,  and  began  to  expatiate  on 
the  cost  of  the  articles,  and  the  change  he  had  brought 
back  ;  but  ByeMtski  drove  him  away. 

After  mixing  the  honey  with  the  wine  in  the  glasses, 
and  lavishly  scattering  the  three  pounds  of  cakes  on  the 
table,  ByeMtski  pulled  the  girls  out  of  the  corner  by  force, 
put  them  down  at  the  table,  and  began  to  distribute  the 
cakes  among  them, 

Ol^nin  involuntarily  noticed  how  Maryanka's  small 
sunburnt  hand  took  hold  of  two  round  peppermint  and 
one  honey  cake,  and  how  she  was  in  doubt  what  to  do 
with  them.  The  conversation  was  constrained  and  cheer- 
less, in  spite  of  Ustenka's  and  Byel^tski's  vivacity,  and 
their  attempts  to  cheer  up  the  company.  Ol^nin  was 
embarrassed,  brooded  over  something  to  say,  and  felt  that 
he  was  rousing  their  curiosity,  perhaps  provoking  their 
ridicule,  and  communicating  his  bashfulness  to  the  others. 
He  blushed,  and  it  seemed  to  him  that  Maryanka  in  par- 
ticular was  ill  at  ease. 

"  No  doubt  they  are  waiting  for  us  to  give  them  some 
money,"  he  thought.  "  How  are  we  going  to  do  it  ?  Let 
us  give  it  to  them  as  soon  as  possible  and  go ! " 


XXV. 

"  How  is  it  you  do  not  know  your  lodger  ? "  said  Bye- 
l^tski,  turning  to  Maryauka. 

"  How  am  I  to  know  him  if  he  never  comes  to  see  us  ? " 
said  Maryanka,  casting  a  glance  upon  Ol^niu. 

Olenin  was  startled,  and  his  face  was  flushed.  He 
answered,  without  knowing  himself  what  he  was  saying : 
"  I  am  afraid  of  your  mother.  She  scolded  me  so  the  first 
time  I  called  at  your  house." 

Maryanka  laughed  out  loud. 

"  So  you  were  scared  ?  "  she  said,  glancing  at  him,  and 
turning  her  head  away. 

That  was  then  the  first  time  Olenin  had  seen  the  whole 
face  of  the  beautiful  girl,  for  heretofore  he  had  seen  it 
only  wrapped  in  a  kerchief  down  to  her  eyes.  There  was 
good  reason  why  she  was  regarded  as  the  most  beautiful 
girl  in  the  village.  Ustenka  was  a  pretty  girl,  petite, 
plump,  ruddy,  with  laughing  hazel  eyes,  with  an  eternal 
smile  on  her  rosy  lips,  for  ever  giggling  and  prattling. 
Maryanka,  on  the  contrary,  was  by  no  means  pretty,  she 
was  a  beauty !  Her  features  might  have  appeared  too 
masculine  and  almost  coarse,  had  it  not  been  for  her  tall, 
stately  form,  and  her  powerful  chest  and  shoulders,  and 
chiefly  for  the  stern  and  yet  gentle  expression  of  her  wide 
black  eyes,  surrounded  by  a  deep  shadow  beneath  black 
brows,  and  for  the  gentle  expression  of  her  mouth  and  of 
her  smile.  She  rarely  smiled,  but  her  smile  was  so  much 
the  more  effective.  She  exhaled  virgin  strength  and 
health.     All  the  girls  were  pretty ;  but  they  themselves, 

226 


THE    COSSACKS  227 

and  Byel^tski,  and  the  orderly  who  had  brought  the  cakes, 
all  could  not  help  looking  at  Maryanka,  and  when  they 
addressed  the  girls,  they  turned  to  her  in  particular.  She 
appeared  as  a  proud  and  happy  queen  among  the  rest. 

Byel^tski  endeavoured  to  maintain  the  decorum  of  the 
evening  entertainment.  He  chattered  without  cessation, 
urged  the  girls  to  pass  the  wine,  joked  with  them,  and 
continually  made  improper  remarks  to  Ol^nin  in  French 
about  Maryanka's  beauty,  calling  her  "  yours,"  la  voire, 
and  inviting  him  to  follow  his  example.  Ol^nin  felt 
more  oppressed.  He  was  thinking  of  an  excuse  to  walk 
out  and  run  away,  when  Byel(5tski  proclaimed  that 
Ustenka,  who  was  celebrating  her  name-day,  should  pass 
the  wine  with  kisses.  She  consented,  but  with  the  con- 
dition that  money  should  be  placed  on  her  plate,  as  tliis  is 
done  at  weddings. 

"  The  devil  has  brought  me  to  tliis  abominable  feast ! " 
Ol^nin  said  to  himself,  and  he  arose,  intending  to  leave. 

"  Where  are  you  going  ?  " 

"  I  want  to  fetch  the  tobacco,"  he  said,  intending  to 
run,  but  Byel^tski  caught  hold  of  liis  hand. 

"  I  have  some  money,"  he  said  to  liim  in  French. 

"  There  is  no  getting  away  ;  I  shall  have  to  pay,"  Ol&iu 
thought,  and  he  was  annoyed  at  his  awkwardness.  "  Why 
can't  I  do  the  same  as  Byeletski  does  ?  I  ought  not  to 
have  come ;  but  having  come,  I  ought  not  to  spoil  their 
pleasure.  I  must  drink  in  Cossack  fashion."  Saying 
this,  he  seized  a  w^ooden  bowl  that  contained  about  eight 
glasses,  filled  it  with  wine,  and  almost  drained  it.  The 
girls  looked  at  him  in  amazement  and  almost  in  terror, 
while  he  was  drinking.  Ustenka  passed  around  one  glass 
more  to  both  of  them,  and  kissed  them. 

"  Girls,  we  will  have  a  good  time  now,"  she  said,  jin- 
gling on  her  plate  the  four  silver  roubles  which  they  had 
placed  there. 

Ol^uin  was  no  longer  ill  at  ease.     He  became  talkative. 


228  THE   COSSACKS 

"  Now,  you,  Maryanka,  pass  around  the  wine  with 
kisses,"  said  Byel^tski,  seizing  her  hand. 

"  That  is  the  kind  of  kiss  I  will  give  you,"  she  said, 
raising  her  hand  in  jest,  as  though  to  strike  him. 

"  You  may  kiss  the  little  grandfather  without  money," 
said  another  girl. 

"  You  are  a  clever  girl ! "  said  Byel^tski,  kissing  the 
maiden,  who  was  struggling  to  get  away.  "  No,  you 
pass  the  wine,"  insisted  Byel^tski,  turning  to  Maryanka. 
"  Pass  it  to  your  lodger  ! " 

He  took  her  hand,  led  her  up  to  the  bench,  and  seated 
her  at  Ol^uin's  side. 

"  What  a  beauty  ! "  he  said,  turning  her  head  so  as  to 
show  her  profile. 

Maryanka  made  no  resistance,  but,  smiling  proudly, 
surveyed  Ol^nin  with  her  wide  eyes. 

"  She  is  a  beauty  ! "  repeated  Byel(5tski. 

"  Am  I  not  a  beauty  ? "  Maryanka's  glance  seemed  to 
say.  Without  being  conscious  of  what  he  was  doing, 
Ol^nin  embraced  Maryanka,  and  was  on  the  point  of 
kissing  her.  She  suddenly  tore  herself  away,  tripped  up 
Byel(^tski,  pulled  things  down  from  the  table,  and  jumped 
to  the  oven.  There  were  shouts  and  laughter.  Byel^tski 
whispered  something  to  the  girls,  and  suddenly  they  all 
rushed  out  of  the  room  into  the  vestibule,  and  locked  the 
door. 

"  Wliy  did  you  kiss  Byel^tski,  and  won't  kiss  me  ? " 
asked  Ol^niu. 

"  I  just  don't  want  to,  and  that  is  all,"  she  answered, 
twitching  her  lower  lip  and  her  brows.  "  He  is  the  little 
grandfather,"  she  added,  smiling.  She  went  up  to  the 
door  and  began  to  knock  at  it.  "  What  did  you  lock  it 
for,  you  devils  ?  " 

"  Well,  let  them  be  there,  and  we  will  stay  here,"  said 
Oli^nin,  approaching  her. 

She  frowned,  and  pushed  him  sternly  away  from  her. 


THE   COSSACKS  229 

And  again  she  appeared  to  OMnin  so  majestic  and  beauti- 
ful that  he  came  to  his  senses  and  felt  ashamed  of  what 
he  had  done.  He  walked  up  to  the  door  and  tried  to  pull 
it  open. 

"  Byel^tski,  open  the  door  !     What  stupid  jokes  ! " 

Maryanka  again  laughed  her  bright,  happy  laugh. 

"  Are  you  afraid  of  me  ? "  she  asked. 

"  You  are  just  as  cross  as  your  mother." 

"  You  ought  to  sit  more  with  Eroshka,  then  the  girls 
would  like  you  better,"  she  said,  smiling,  and,  walking  up 
to  him,  looked  him  straight  in  the  eyes. 

He  did  not  know  what  to  say. 

"  And  if  I  were  to  visit  you  ? "  he  said,  suddenly. 

"  That  would  be  different,"  she  said,  shaking  her  head. 

Just  then  Byei^tski  pushed  the  door  open,  and  Mar- 
yanka darted  away  from  Olenin,  and  in  doing  so  her  hip 
struck  his  leg. 

"  It  is  all  rubbish  what  I  have  been  thinking  heretofore 
about  love,  and  self-renunciation,  and  Lukashka.  There 
is  but  one  kind  of  happiness,  and  he  who  is  happy  is 
right."  This  thought  flashed  through  Olenin's  mind,  and, 
with  a  force  which  he  had  not  suspected  in  himself,  lie 
seized  beautiful  Maryanka,  and  kissed  her  temple  and 
cheek.  Maryanka  did  not  become  angry,  but  only  burst 
out  laughing,  and  ran  out  to  the  other  girls. 

The  evening  party  ended  with  this.  The  old  woman, 
Ustenka's  mother,  who  had  just  returned  from  her  field 
labour,  scolded  all  the  girls,  and  drove  them  away. 


XXVL 

"  Yes,"  thought  Ol^nin,  on  his  way  home,  "  I  only  need 
to  give  myself  free  rein,  in  order  to  be  desperately  in  love 
with  this  Cossack  girl." 

He  went  to  bed  with  these  feelings ;  he  thought  that 
all  this  would  pass  away,  and  he  would  return  to  his  old 
life.  But  the  old  life  did  not  return.  His  relations  to 
Maryanka  were  changed.  The  wall  which  had  separated 
them  before  was  torn  down.  Olt^nin  now  exchanged 
greetings  with  her  every  time  they  met. 

When  the  landlord  arrived  in  order  to  receive  the 
money  for  the  lodgings,  and  learned  of  Ol^nin's  wealth 
and  liberality,  he  invited  him  to  his  house.  The  old 
woman  received  him  kindly,  and  since  the  day  of  the 
evening  entertamment  Ol^uiu  frequently  went  in  to  see 
them,  and  on  these  occasions  stayed  until  night.  Appar- 
ently his  life  in  the  village  ran  as  of  old,  but  in  his  heart 
everything  had  completely  changed.  He  passed  his  days 
in  the  forest,  but  about  eight  o'clock,  when  it  began  to 
grow  dark,  he  generally  went  over  to  the  ensign's  house, 
alone,  or  with  Uncle  Eroshka.  The  people  became  so 
accustomed  to  him  that  they  wondered  whenever  he  did 
not  come. 

He  paid  well  for  his  wine,  and  was  a  peaceful  man. 
Vanyilsha  would  bring  him  his  tea.  He  would  seat  him- 
self in  the  corner  near  the  oven.  The  old  woman  was 
not  embarrassed  by  his  presence,  and  went  on  with  her 
work ;  and  they  chatted  over  their  tea  and  over  their 
wine  about  Cossack  affairs,  about  their  neighbours,  and 

230 


THE    COSSACKS  231 

about  Russia,  of  which  OMnin  told  them  in  reply  to  their 
questions. 

At  times  he  would  take  a  book  and  read  to  himself. 
Maryanka,  as  wild  as  a  goat,  would  draw  up  her  feet  and 
sit  on  the  oven  or  in  a  dark  corner.  She  did  not  take 
part  in  the  conversation,  but  Ol^nin  saw  her  eyes  and 
face,  heard  her  moving,  and  cracking  seeds,  and  felt  that 
she  listened  with  all  her  being  when  he  spoke,  and  he 
was  conscious  of  her  presence  when  he  was  reading  in 
silence.  At  times  it  seemed  to  him  that  her  eyes  were 
directed  upon  him,  and  when  he  caught  their  sparkle,  he 
involuntarily  grew  silent,  and  gazed  upon  her.  Then  she 
would  hide  herself,  and  he,  pretending  to  be  interested 
in  his  conversation  with  the  old  woman,  listened  to  her 
breathing,  to  every  motion  of  hers,  and  again  awaited  her 
glance.  In  the  presence  of  others  she  generally  was 
cheerful  and  pleasant  to  him,  but  when  she  was  left  alone 
with  him,  she  grew  incommunicative  and  rude.  Some- 
times he  came  to  see  them  when  Maryanka  had  not  yet 
returned  from  the  street ;  suddenly  her  firm  steps  could 
be  heard,  and  her  blue  chintz  shirt  flashed  by  the  open 
door.  She  would  walk  into  the  middle  of  the  room  and 
notice  his  presence,  —  and  a  faint  smile  of  recognition 
would  appear  on  her  lips,  and  he  would  be  overcome  by 
a  sensation  of  happiness  and  terror. 

He  asked  nothing,  wished  nothing  of  her,  but  with 
every  day  her  presence  became  more  and  more  a  necessity 
to  him. 

Olenin  became  so  accustomed  to  the  Hfe  of  the  village, 
that  the  past  appeared  to  him  as  something  quite  foreign, 
and  the  future,  especially  outside  of  the  world  he  lived  in, 
did  not  interest  him  at  all.  When  he  received  letters 
from  home,  from  relatives  and  friends,  he  felt  aggrieved 
because  they  mourned  him  as  a  lost  man,  whereas  he,  in 
his  village,  regarded  those  as  lost  who  did  not  lead  the 
life  he  was  leading.     He  was  convinced  that  he  should 


232  THE   COSSACKS 

never  regret  his  having  torn  himself  away  from  his 
former  Hfe,  and  his  Kving  this  peculiar  life  in  the  seclu- 
sion of  his  village.  He  was  happy  in  expeditions  and  in 
the  fortresses  ;  but  only  here,  under  Uncle  Eroshka's  wing, 
in  his  forest,  in  liis  cabin  on  the  outskirt  of  the  village, 
but  especially  at  the  thought  of  Maryanka  and  Lukashka, 
he  clearly  discerned  the  whole  lie  of  his  former  life,  wliich 
had  provoked  Mm  even  there,  but  which  only  now  ap- 
peared inexpressibly  contemptible  and  ridiculous  to  him. 

Here  he  felt  himself  each  day  more  and  more  free,  and 
more  a  man.  The  Caucasus  presented  itself  to  him  quite 
differently  from  what  he  had  imagined  it  to  be.  He  had 
found  notliing  resembling  all  his  dreams  and  all  the 
descriptions  of  the  Caucasus  of  wliich  he  had  heard  or 
read. 

"  There  are  here  no  chestnut  steeds,  no  cataracts,  no 
Amalat-beks,  no  heroes,  and  no  brigands,"  he  thought. 
"  People  hve  here  as  does  Nature ;  they  die,  they  are 
born,  they  pair,  again  they  are  born,  they  fight,  they 
drink,  they  eat,  they  have  pleasure,  and  again  they  die, 
and  there  are  no  conditions,  except  those  unchangeable 
ones  which  Nature  has  imposed  upon  the  sun,  the  grass, 
the  beasts,  and  the  trees.     They  have  no  other  laws." 

For  this  very  reason  these  people  appeared  to  him, 
compared  with  himself,  so  beautiful,  strong,  and  free,  and 
gazing  upon  them,  he  felt  ashamed  of  himself  and  sad. 
He  often  seriously  considered  throwing  up  everything, 
enrolling  himself  as  a  Cossack,  buying  a  cabin  and  cattle, 
and  marrying  a  Cossack  maiden,  —  not  Maryanka,  whom 
he  had  renounced  in  favour  of  Lukashka,  —  and  living 
with  Uncle  Erdshka,  fishing  and  hunting  with  liim,  and 
going  on  expeditious  with  the  Cossacks. 

"  Why  don't  I  do  that  ?  What  am  I  waiting  for  ? " 
he  -asked  himself.  And  he  egged  himself  on  and  put 
himself  to  shame :  "  Am  I  afraid  to  do  that  which  I  my- 
self have  found  to  be  sensible  and  just  ?     Is  the  desire  to 


THE    COSSACKS  233 

be  a  simple  Cossack,  to  live  close  to  Nature,  to  do  no  one 
any  harm,  but,  on  the  contrary,  to  do  people  some  good, 
—  is  the  dream  of  all  this  more  stupid  than  the  dreams  I 
used  to  have,  —  for  example,  to  be  a  minister,  or  a  gen- 
eral ? " 

But  a  voice  told  him  to  wait,  and  not  to  be  in  a  hurry. 
He  was  restrained  by  a  dim  consciousness  that  he  could 
not  live  entirely  Eroshka's  and  Lukashka's  life,  because 
his  happiness  was  of  a  different  nature,  —  he  was  re- 
strained by  the  thought  that  happiness  consisted  in  self- 
renunciation.  His  act  toward  Luka^hka  did  not  cease  to 
give  him  pleasure.  He  continually  searched  for  oppor- 
tunities to  sacrifice  himself  for  others,  but  these  opportuni- 
ties did  not  present  themselves.  At  times  he  forgot  this 
newly  discovered  recipe  for  happiness,  and  considered 
himself  capable  of  living  entirely  Eroshka's  life ;  but  then 
he  would  suddenly  come  to  his  senses  again,  and  cling 
once  more  to  the  thought  of  conscious  self-renunciation, 
and  on  the  basis  of  this  thought  he  would  calmly  and 
proudly  look  upon  all  people  and  upon  the  happiness  of 
others. 


XXVII. 

Before  the  vintage,  Lukaslika  came  on  horseback  to 
see  Ol^nin.     He  looked  even  more  dashing  than  usual. 

"  Well,  are  you  going  to  get  married  ? "  Olt^nin  asked, 
giving  him  a  warm  reception. 

Lukashka  gave  no  direct  answer. 

"  You  see,  I  have  swapped  off  your  horse  across  the 
river.  This  is  a  horse !  It  is  a  Kabarda  horse  from  Lov's 
stud  Tavro.     I  can  tell  a  good  liorse." 

They  examined  the  new  steed,  and  made  him  go  through 
various  evolutions  in  the  yard.  He  was  indeed  an  uncom- 
monly good  animal ;  he  was  a  bay  gelding,  broad  and  long, 
with  the  glossy  hair,  bushy  tail,  and  soft,  dehcate  mane  and 
withers  of  a  thoroughbred.  He  was  so  plump  that  one 
could  go  to  sleep  on  his  back,  as  Lukashka  expressed  it. 
His  hoofs,  eyes,  and  teeth  were  as  delicate  and  sharply 
outlined  as  they  only  are  in  horses  of  the  purest  breed. 
OMnin  could  not  help  admiring  the  horse.  He  had  not 
seen  such  a  beauty  in  the  Caucasus. 

"  And  how  he  rides ! "  said  Lukashka,  patting  his  neck. 
"  What  a  canter !  And  he  is  so  intelligent !  He  follows 
his  master." 

"  Did  you  give  much  to  boot  ?  "  asked  Ol^nin. 

"  I  did  not  count,"  replied  Lukashka,  smiling.  "  I  got 
it  from  a  chum." 

"  It  is  a  wonderfully  fine  horse !  How  much  will  you 
take  for  it  ? "  asked  Ol^nin. 

"  I  was  offered  one  hundred  and  fifty  roubles,  but  I  will 
give  him   to  you   for  nothing,"  Lukashka  said,  merrily. 

234 


THE    COSSACKS  235 

"  Say  the  word,  and  you  shall  have  him.  I  will  take  off 
the  saddle,  and  you  may  take  him." 

"  No,  under  no  condition." 

"  Well,  then  I  have  brought  you  a  memento,"  said  Lu- 
kashka,  ungirding  himself,  and  taking  down  one  of  the 
two  daggers  that  were  stuck  in  the  belt.  "  I  got  it  beyond 
the  river." 

"  Thank  you  ! " 

"  Mother  told  me  she  would  herself  bring  you  some 
grapes." 

"  That  is  not  necessary,  for  we  will  square  up  accounts 
some  day.    I  am  not  going  to  give  you  any  money  for  it." 

"  How  could  that  be  among  chums  ?  Girt^y-khan,  the 
one  across  the  river,  took  me  to  his  house,  and  told  me  to 
select  any  I  pleased.  So  I  took  this  sabre.  Such  is  the 
custom  among  us." 

They  went  into  the  room  and  took  a  drink. 

"  Well,  are  you  going  to  stay  here  awhile  ? "  asked 
Ol^nin, 

"  No,  I  have  come  to  say  farewell.  They  are  sending 
me  away  from  the  cordon  to  a  company  beyond  the 
T^rek.     I  am  leaving  to-day  with  friend  Nazarka." 

"  And  when  will  the  wedding  be  ?  " 

"  I  will  soon  come  down  here  for  the  betrothal,  and 
then  back  again  to  my  duty,"  Lukashka  replied,  reluc- 
tantly. 

"  How  is  that  ?     Will  you  not  go  in  to  see  your  bride  ?  " 

"  No  !  What's  the  use  of  looking  at  her  ?  When  you 
are  out  on  a  campaign,  ask  at  our  company  for  Lukashka 
the  Broad.  There  are  a  lot  of  wild  boars  there !  I  have 
killed  two  myself.     I  will  show  you  the  place." 

"  Well,  good-bye  !     Christ  preserve  you  ! " 

Lukashka  mounted  his  horse,  and,  without  showing 
himself  to  Maryanka,  made  some  evolutions  as  he  rode 
out  into  the  street,  where  Nazarka  was  already  waiting 
for  him. 


236  THE    COSSACKS 

"  Well  ?  Sha'n't  we  go  in  ? "  asked  Nazarka,  winking 
in  the  direction  where  Yamka  lived. 

"  Here,"  said  Lukashka,  "  take  my  horse  over  to 
her  place,  and  if  I  am  not  back  for  a  long  time, 
give  him  some  hay.  In  the  morning  I  will  be  in  the 
company." 

"  Didn't  the  yunker  give  you  another  present  ? " 

"  No !  I  am  glad  I  got  off  with  a  dagger,  for  he  was 
beginning  to  ask  for  the  horse,"  said  Lukashka,  dismount- 
ing and  turning  the  horse  over  to  Nazarka. 

He  darted  into  the  yard  under  Ol^nin's  very  window, 
and  went  up  to  the  window  of  the  ensign's  cabin.  It  was 
quite  dark.  Maryanka,  in  nothing  but  her  shirt,  was 
combing  her  braid,  previous  to  going  to  bed. 

"  It  is  I,"  whispered  the  Cossack. 

Marydnka's  face  bore  an  austerely  indifferent  expres- 
sion, but  it  suddenly  grew  animated  the  moment  she 
heard  her  name.  She  raised  the  window,  and  leaned  out 
of  it,  with  an  expression  of  fear  and  joy. 

"  What  is  it  ?     What  do  you  want  ?  "  she  said. 

"  Open  the  door  ! "  said  Lukashka.  "  Let  me  in  for  a 
little  while  !     It  is  dreadfully  dull  without  you  ! " 

He  took  her  head  in  his  arms,  through  the  window, 
and  kissed  it. 

"  Really,  open  the  door  ! " 

"  What  is  the  use  of  speaking  foolish  things !  I  told 
you  I  will  not  let  you  in.     Are  you  here  for  long  ? " 

He  did  not  answer,  and  only  kept  kissing  her.  And 
she  was  satisfied. 

"  You  see,  it  is  not  so  easy  to  hug  you  through  the 
window,"  said  Lukashka. 

"  ]\Iaryanushka ! "  was  heard  the  old  woman's  voice. 
"  Who  is  there  with  you  ? " 

Lukashka  took  off  his  cap  so  as  not  to  be  recognized, 
and  crouched  under  the  window. 

"  Begone  at  once  ! "  whispered  Maryanka. 


THE    COSSACKS  237 

"  Lukashka  was  here,"  she  replied  to  her  mother.  "  He 
was  asking  for  father." 

"  Well,  send  him  here  ! " 

"  He  is  gone.     He  said  he  had  no  time." 

Indeed,  Lukashka,  bending  down,  ran  with  rapid  steps 
from  the  window,  and  out  of  the  yard,  and  away  to 
Yamka's ;  none  but  Ol^nin  had  seen  him.  After  drink- 
ing about  two  bowls  of  wine,  he  and  Nazarka  rode  out  of 
the  village.  The  night  was  warm,  dark,  and  calm.  They 
rode  in  silence,  and  only  the  thud  of  the  horses'  hoofs 
was  heard.  Lukashka  started  a  song  about  Cossack 
Mingal,  but,  without  finishing  the  first  verse,  he  stopped 
and  turned  to  Nazarka. 

"  You  know  she  did  not  let  me  in  ! "  he  said. 

"  Oh  ! "  exclaimed  Nazarka.  "  I  knew  she  would  not 
let  you  in.  Do  you  know  what  Y^mka  told  me  ?  She 
said  the  yunker  is  now  keeping  company  with  her. 
Uncle  Eroshka  was  bragging  that  he  got  a  fowling-piece 
from  the  yunker  for  getting  him  Maryanka." 

"  He  is  lying,  the  devil ! "  Lukashka  said,  angrily.  "  She 
is  not  that  kind  of  girl.  But  I  will  smash  the  ribs  of  the 
old  devil,"  and  he  started  his  favourite  song. 

"  From  the  village  it  was,  from  Izmflylovo, 
From  the  well-loved  garden  of  the  nobleman, 
There  a  clear-eyed  falcon  from  the  garden  flew; 
And  right  after  him  a  young  huntsman  rode, 
And  the  clear-eyed  falcon  to  his  right  hand  he  called. 
The  clear -eyed  falcon  gave  this  answer  : 

'  You  did  not  know  how  to  keep  me  in  the  golden  cage, 
Nor  knew  how  to  hold  ine  in  yom-  right  hand. 
So  now  I  will  fly  to  the  blue  sea  ; 
There  I  myself  will  kill  the  white  swan, 
And  of  the  swan's  sweet  flesh  I  will  have  my  fill.'  " 


XXVIII. 

The  ensign  was  celebrating  the  betrothal.  Lukashka 
was  in  the  village,  but  did  not  call  on  Ol^uin.  Ol^nin 
himself  did  not  go  to  the  celebration,  to  which  the  ensign 
had  invited  him.  He  felt  sadder  than  he  had  felt  since 
his  arrival  in  the  village.  He  saw  Lukashka,  in  his  best 
attire,  walk  in  the  evening  with  his  mother  to  the  ensign's, 
and  he  was  tormented  by  the  thought  that  Lukashka  was 
cold  to  him.  Ol^nin  shut  himself  up  in  his  room,  and 
began  to  write  his  diary. 

"  I  have  thought  much  and  changed  much  of  late," 
wrote  Olenin,  "  and  I  have  reached  the  truth  which  is 
written  in  the  ABC  book.  In  order  to  be  happy,  I  must 
do  this  one  thing,  —  love,  and  love  with  self-renunciation, 
love  all  and  everything,  and  spread  on  all  sides  the  spider- 
web  of  love  :  I  must  take  all  who  fall  into  it.  Thus  I  have 
taken  Vanyiisha,  Uncle  Eroshka,  Lukashka,  Maryanka." 

As  Olenin  was  finishing  this  sentence.  Uncle  Eroshka 
came  in  to  see  him.  Eroshka  was  in  the  happiest  frame 
of  mind.  When  calling  upon  him  one  evening  a  few  days 
before,  Olenin  found  him  in  his  yard  engaged,  with  a 
happy  and  proud  mien,  in  deftly  flaying  the  carcass  of 
a  wild  boar  with  a  small  knife.  His  dogs,  and  among 
them  his  favourite  Lyam,  were  lying  about,  softly  wag- 
ging their  tails,  and  looking  at  his  work.  The  urchins 
respectfully  watched  hivn  from  over  the  fence,  and  did  not 
even  tease  him,  as  was  their  custom.  The  women  of  his 
neighbourhood,  who  were  not  as  a  rule  especially  kind  to 
him,  saluted  him,  and  brought  him,  one  a  little  jug  of  red 

238 


THE    COSSACKS  239 

wine,  another  some  boiled  cream,  and  a  third  some  pastry. 
The  next  morning  Eroshka  was  sitting  in  his  shed,  all 
covered  with  blood,  and  selling  wild  boar  meat  by  the 
pound,  either  for  money,  or  for  wine.  On  his  face  it  was 
written,  "  God  has  given  me  luck,  and  I  have  killed  a 
wild  boar ;  now  everybody  needs  the  uncle."  In  conse- 
quence of  this  he,  naturally,  took  to  drinking,  and  this 
was  the  fourth  day  of  his  spree,  during  which  he  had  not 
left  the  village.  In  addition  to  this,  he  had  been  drinking 
at  the  betrothal. 

Uncle  Eroshka  came  away  from  the  ensign's  cabin 
dead  drunk,  with  a  flushed  face,  and  dishevelled  beard,  but 
in  a  new  red  half-coat,  embroidered  with  galloons,  and 
with  a  gourd  balalayka,  which  he  had  brought  with  him 
from  across  the  river.  He  had  long  ago  promised  Ol^uin 
this  pleasure,  and  was  now  in  the  proper  mood  for  it. 
When  he  saw  that  Ol^nin  was  busy  writing,  he  was 
disappointed. 

"  Write,  write,  my  father,"  he  said,  in  a  whisper,  as 
though  supposing  that  a  spirit  was  sitting  between  him 
and  the  paper,  and,  fearing  to  disturb  him,  he  sat  down 
noiselessly  and  softly  on  the  floor.  01(5nin  cast  a  look  at 
him,  ordered  some  wine,  and  continued  to  write.  It  was 
dull  for  Eroshka  to  drink  alone.     He  wanted  to  chat. 

"  I  have  been  to  the  betrothal  at  the  ensign's.  But 
they  are  swine !  I  don't  want  them  !  And  so  I  came 
here." 

"  Where  did  you  get  that  balalayka  ? "  asked  Olenin, 
continuing  to  write. 

"  I  went,  across  the  river,  my  father,  and  got  the  bala- 
layka," he  said,  in  just  as  soft  a  voice.  "  I  am  a  great 
hand  at  playing.  I  can  play  Tartar,  Cossack,  gentlemen's, 
soldiers'  songs,  any  you  may  wish." 

Olenin  glanced  at  him  a  second  time,  smiled,  and  con- 
tinued to  write. 

His  smile  encouraged  the  old  man. 


240  THE    COSSA.CKS 

"  Throw  it  away,  my  father !  Throw  it  away ! "  he 
suddenly  exclaimed,  resolutely.  "  Well,  suppose  they 
have  insulted  you !  Give  them  up,  spit  at  the  whole 
affair !  What  are  you  writing  and  writing  for  ?  What 
sense  is  there  ? " 

And  he  mocked  Ol^nin,  tapping  his  stout  fingers  on 
the  floor,  and  screwing  his  puff'ed-up  face  into  a  contemp- 
tuous grimace. 

"  What  is  the  use  of  writing  documents  ?  Celebrate, 
and  you  will  be  a  fine  fellow ! " 

Al3out  writing  his  head  could  form  no  other  conception 
than  that  it  was  for  some  dangerous  pettifoggery. 

Ol^nin  burst  out  laughing,  and  so  did  Eroshka.  He 
sprang  up  from  the  floor,  and  began  to  show  off  his  art  of 
playing  his  balalayka  and  singing  Tartar  songs. 

"  What  is  the  use  writing,  my  good  man !  You  will 
do  better  to  listen  to  what  I  will  sing  to  you  !  When 
you  are  dead,  you  will  not  hear  any  songs.     Celebrate  ! " 

At  first  he  sang  a  song  of  his  own  composition,  with 
dancing  accompaniment : 

"  A  di-di-di-di-fli-li, 
Did  you  see  liiiii  ?     Where  was  he  ? 
In  the  market  in  a  store, 
Selling  pins  by  the  score." 

Then  he  sang  a  song  which  his  former  sergeant  had 
taught  him : 

'«  On  Monday  in  love  I  fell, 
All  Tuesday  I  suffered  woe, 
On  Wednesday  I  to  her  did  tell. 
On  Thursday  was  no  answer,  though. 
On  Friday  came  her  reply, 
Not  to  wait  for  any  joy. 
And  on  Saturday  I  swore 
That  on  earth  I'd  live  no  more; 
But  on  Sunday  changed  my  mind,  — 
Cast  my  sorrow  to  the  wind." 


THE   COSSACKS  241 


And  again : 


"  A  di-di-di-di-di-li, 
Did  you  see  him  ?     Where  was  he  ?  " 

Then,  winking,  twitching  his  shoulders,  and  dancing,  he 
sang: 

"  I  will  kiss  thee,  will  embrace  thee, 
With  red  ribbons  will  I  lace  thee, 
Hope  I'll  name  thee,  —  hope  to  me  1 
Dost  thou  love  me  faithfully  ?  " 

And  he  became  so  excited  that  he  posed  in  dashing 
attitudes,  playing  his  instruments  all  the  while,  and 
started  whirling  over  the  room. 

"  Di-di-li,"  and  other  gentlemen's  songs  he  sang  only 
for  Ol^nin.  Later  in  the  evening,  when  he  had  drunk 
another  three  glasses  of  red  wine,  he  recalled  bygone 
days,  and  sang  genuine  Cossack  and  Tartar  songs.  In 
the  middle  of  one  of  his  favourite  songs,  his  voice  sud- 
denly quivered,  and  he  grew  silent,  continuing  only  to 
strum  his  balalayka. 

"  Ah  !  my  dear  friend  ! "  he  said. 

Ol^nin  turned  his  eyes  upon  him,  when  he  heard  the 
strange  sound  of  his  voice :  the  old  man  was  weeping. 
Tears  stood  in  his  eyes,  and  one  tear  trickled  down  his 
cheek. 

"  Gone  is  my  youth,  it  will  never  return,"  he  said,  sob- 
bing, and  grew  silent.  "  Drink  !  Why  don't  you  drink  ?  " 
he  suddenly  shouted,  in  his  deafening  voice,  without 
wiping  away  his  tears. 

He  was  stirred  more  especially  by  a  mountain  song. 
There  were  but  few  words  in  it,  and  the  whole  charm 
consisted  in  the  melancholy  refrain,  "  Ay  !  Day  !  Dalalay  ! " 
Eroshka  translated  the  words  of  the  song : 

"  The  young  brave  took  his  plunder  from  the  village 
into  the  mountain ;  the  Russians  came,  burnt  the  vil- 
lage, killed  all  the  men,  and  took  all  the  women  prisoners. 


242  THE    COSSACKS 

The  young  brave  returned  from  the  mountains :  where 
the  village  had  been  was  a  waste ;  his  mother  was  not ; 
his  brothers  were  not ;  his  house  was  not ;  one  tree  alone 
was  standing.  The  brave  sat  down  under  the  tree  and 
wept :  *  Alone,  like  thee,  alone  am  I  left ! '  and  the  brave 
began  to  sing,  '  Ay  !  Day  !  Dalalay  ! ' " 

And  this  moaning,  heartrending  refrain  the  old  man 
repeated  several  times. 

Having  finished  the  last  refrain,  Eroshka  suddenly 
seized  the  gun  from  the  wall,  darted  out  into  the  yard, 
and  fired  off  both  barrels  into  the  air.  And  he  sang 
again,  more  mournfully  still,  "  Ay  !  Day  !  Dalalay  a-a ! " 
and  stopped. 

Ol^nin  had  followed  him  out  on  the  porch,  and  was 
silently  gazing  at  the  dark,  starry  heaven,  in  the  direction 
where  the  fire  from  the  gun  had  flashed.  The  ensign's 
house  was  lighted  up,  and  voices  were  heard  there.  In 
the  yard  a  bevy  of  girls  were  crowding  near  the  porch 
and  the  windows,  and  running  from  the  dairy  to  the  ves- 
tibule. A  few  Cossacks  rushed  out  of  the  vestibule  and, 
unable  to  restrain  themselves,  gave  the  war-cry,  to  express 
their  approbation  of  Uncle  Erdshka's  refrain  and  shots. 

"  Why  are  you  not  at  the  betrothal  ? "  asked  Ol^nin. 

"  God  be  with  them !  God  be  with  them  ! "  said  the 
old  man,  who  had  evidently  been  offended  there  in  some 
manner.  "  I  do  not  like  them !  I  do  not  like  them ! 
Ah,  what  a  people  !  Let  us  go  into  the  room !  They  are 
celebrating  by  themselves,  and  we  by  ourselves." 

Ol^nin  returned  to  his  room. 

"  Well,  and  is  Lukashka  happy  ?  Will  he  not  come  to 
see  me  ? "  he  asked. 

"  Lukashka  ?  People  have  told  him  a  lie  :  they  have 
told  him  that  I  had  brought  the  girl  to  you,"  said  the  old 
man,  in  a  whisper.  "  The  girl  ?  She  will  be  ours,  if  we 
want  her ;  give  more  money,  and  she  will  be  ours  !  I  will 
do  it  for  you,  truly  I  will." 


I 


THE    COSSACKS  243 

"  No,  uncle,  money  will  not  accomplish  anything,  if  she 
does  not  love.     You  had  better  not  speak  of  it." 

"  We  are  both  disliked,  —  we  are  orphans,"  suddenly 
said  Uncle  Erdshka,  and  again  burst  into  tears. 

OMuin  drank  more  than  usual,  while  listening  to  the 
old  man's  stories. 

"  Now,  my  Lukfishka  is  happy,"  he  thought ;  but  he 
was  sad.  The  old  man  was  so  drunk  that  evening 
that  he  fell  down  on  the  floor,  and  Vanyiisha  had  to 
call  in  the  aid  of  some  soldiers,  and  then  use  all  his 
strength  to  drag  him  out.  He  was  so  furious  at  the  old 
man  for  his  bad  behaviour  that  he  did  not  say  anything 
in  French. 


I 


XXIX. 

It  was  the  month  of  August.  For  several  days  in 
succession  there  had  not  been  a  cloud  in  the  sky.  The 
sun's  heat  was  intolerable,  and  from  early  morning  blew  a 
hot  wind,  raising  clouds  of  burning  sand  from  the  dunes 
and  the  roads,  and  carrying  it  in  the  air  over  the  reeds, 
trees,  and  villages.  The  gxass  and  the  leaves  of  the  trees 
were  covered  with  dust ;  the  roads  and  salt  marshes  were 
dry,  and  sounded  hollow  when  trod  upon.  The  water  in 
the  T^rek  had  been  low  for  a  long  time,  and  it  rapidly  dis- 
appeared and  dried  up  in  the  ditches.  The  miry  shore  of 
the  pond  near  the  village,  all  trampled  up  by  the  cattle, 
looked  bare,  and  the  whole  day  long  could  be  heard  the 
splashing  and  shouting  of  the  boys  and  girls  in  the 
water. 

In  the  steppe  the  dunes  and  reeds  were  drying  up,  and 
the  cattle,  lowing  during  the  day,  ran  away  into  the  fields. 
The  wild  animals  had  wandered  away  into  distant  reeds, 
and  into  the  mountains  beyond  the  T^rek.  Gnats  and 
little  flies  hovered  in  swarms  over  the  lowlands  and  vil- 
lages. The  snow-capped  mountains  were  shrouded  in  gray 
mist.  The  air  was  rare  and  ill-smelling.  Abr^ks  were 
said  to  have  forded  the  shoahng  river,  and  to  be  galloping 
on  this  side.  The  sun  set  each  evening  in  a  fiery  red 
glow. 

It  was  the  busiest  time  of  the  year.  The  whole  popu- 
lation of  the  villages  swarmed  in  the  melon  fields  and  in 
the  vineyards.  The  gardens  were  wildly  overgrown  with 
twining  verdure  that  afforded  a  cool,  dense  shade.     From 

244 


THE   COSSACKS  245 

all  sides  could  be  seen  the  heavy  clusters  of  ripe  black 
grapes  amidst  the  broad  sunlit  leaves.  Over  the  dusty 
roads,  which  led  to  the  gardens,  slowly  proceeded  the 
squeaking  ox-carts,  loaded  to  the  top  with  the  black 
grapes.  On  the  dusty  road  lay  clusters  that  were  crushed 
by  the  wheels.  Little  boys  and  girls,  in  shirts  soiled  with 
grape-juice,  ran  after  their  mothers,  with  bunches  in  their 
hands  and  mouths.  On  the  road  one  constantly  met 
ragged  labourers,  carrying  on  their  powerful  shoulders 
wicker  baskets  full  of  grapes. 

Girls,  wrapped  in  kerchiefs  up  to  the  eyes,  led  the  oxen 
that  were  hitched  to  the  heavily  laden  carts.  Soldiers, 
meeting  the  Cossack  girls,  asked  them  for  some  grapes, 
and  they,  chmbing  upon  the  carts,  while  they  were  in 
motion,  would  take  large  handfuls  and  throw  them  into 
the  soldiers'  outstretched  coat  flaps. 

In  some  yards  they  were  already  pressing  the  gi-apes. 
The  air  was  redolent  with  the  grape-skins.  Blood-red 
troughs  could  be  seen  under  the  sheds,  and  Nogay  la- 
bourers, with  their  trouser  legs  rolled  up  and  their  calves 
stained,  were  to  be  seen  in  the  yards.  The  pigs  snorted  as 
they  feasted  on  the  skins,  and  wallowed  in  them.  The 
flat  roofs  of  the  dairies  were  thickly  covered  with  dark, 
amber  clusters  drying  in  the  sun.  Crows  and  magpies, 
picking  up  the  seeds,  pressed  close  to  the  roofs,  and  flitted 
from  place  to  place. 

The  fruits  of  the  year's  labours  were  joyfully  gathered, 
and  the  fruit  of  the  year's  harvest  was  uncommonly 
abundant  and  good. 

In  the  shady  green  vineyards,  amidst  a  sea  of  grape- 
vines, on  all  sides  sounded  laughter,  songs,  merriment, 
feminine  voices,  and  flashed  by  the  bright,  coloured  dresses 
of  women. 

Precisely  at  noon,  Maryanka  was  sitting  in  her  garden, 
in  the  shade  of  a  peach-tree,  and  taking  out  a  dinner  for 
the  family  from  the  unhitched  cart.     In  front  of  her,  the 


246  THE    COSSACKS 

eusign,  who  had  returned  from  his  school,  was  sitting  on 
a  horse-blanket  that  was  spread  on  the  ground,  and  wash- 
ing his  hands  by  pouring  water  upon  them  from  a  small 
pitcher.  Her  little  brother,  who  had  just  come"  up  from 
the  pond,  and  was  wiping  his  face  with  his  sleeves,  was 
restlessly  watching  his  sister  and  his  mother,  in  expecta- 
tion of  the  dinner,  and  panting  heavily. 

The  old  mother,  with  sleeves  rolled  up  over  her  sun- 
burnt arms,  was  placing  grapes,  dried  fish,  boiled  cream, 
and  bread  on  a  low,  round  Tartar  table.  Having  wiped 
his  hands,  the  ensign  doffed  his  cap,  made  the  sign  of  the 
cross,  and  moved  up  to  the  table.  The  boy  grasped  the 
pitcher  and  began  to  drink  eagerly.  The  mother  and 
the  daughter,  drawing  their  feet  under  them,  sat  down 
at  the  table. 

But  the  heat  was  also  insufferable  in  the  shade.  There 
was  a  stench  in  the  air  over  the  garden.  The  strong, 
warm  wind,  which  blew  through  the  branches,  did  not 
bring  any  freshness,  but  only  monotonously  waved  the 
tops  of  the  pear,  peach,  and  mulberry  trees  that  were 
scattered  through  the  gardens.  The  ensign,  having  said 
another  prayer,  brought  out  from  behind  his  back  a  jug 
of  red  wine  that  was  covered  with  a  grape-vine  leaf,  and 
having  drunk  from  the  mouth  of  it,  handed  it  to  the 
old  woman.  The  ensign  wore  nothing  but  his  shirt, 
which  was  open  at  the  neck  and  disclosed  his  muscular 
and  hairy  chest.  His  thin,  cunning  face  was  cheerful. 
Neither  his  attitude  nor  his  speech  betrayed  his  custom- 
ary shrewdness :  he  was  happy  and  natural. 

"  Shall  we  finish  up  with  the  strip  behind  the  shed 
this  evening  ? "  he  asked,  wiping  his  wet  beard. 

"  We  shall,  if  only  the  weather  will  hold.  The 
D^mkins  have  not  yet  harvested  one-half,"  she  added. 
"  Ustenka  alone  is  working,  and  she  is  killing  herself." 

"  Wliat  else  did  you  expect  ?  "  the  old  man  said,  proudly. 

"  Here,  take   a   drink,   Maryanushka ! "    said   the   old 


THE    COSSACKS  247 

woman,  passing  the  jug  to  the  girl.  "  Now,  if  God  will 
grant  it,  we  shall  have  the  money  with  which  to  celebrate 
your  wedding,"  said  the  old  woman, 

"  That's  ahead  yet,"  said  the  ensign,  slightly  frowning. 

The  girl  lowered  her  head. 

"  But  why  not  speak  of  it  ?  "  said  the  old  woman.  "  The 
affair  has  been  settled,  and  the  time  is  not  far  oif." 

"  Don't  talk  of  the  future,"  again  said  the  ensign. 
"  Now  is  the  time  for  harvesting." 

"  Have  you  seen  Lukashka's  new  horse  ? "  asked  the 
old  woman.  "  The  one  Dmitri  Andr(^evich  had  given  him, 
he  has  no  longer ;  he  has  swapped  him  off." 

"  No,  I  have  not  seen  him.  I  have  been  talking  to- 
day with  the  lodger's  servant,"  said  the  ensign.  "  He 
says  he  has  again  received  a  thousand  roubles." 

"  A  rich  man,  in  short,"  the  old  woman  confirmed  his 
statement. 

The  whole  family  was  happy  and  contented. 

The  work  proceeded  satisfactorily.  There  was  a  greater 
abundance  of  grapes  than  usual,  and  they  were  better 
than  they  had  expected. 

Having  eaten  her  dinner,  Maryanka  gave  the  oxen 
some  grass,  folded  her  half-coat  under  her  head,  and  lay 
down  under  the  cart,  on  the  trampled,  succulent  grass. 
She  was  clad  in  nothing  but  a  red  silk  kerchief  on  her 
head,  and  a  faded  blue  chintz  shirt ;  but  she  felt  intoler- 
ably hot.  Her  face  was  burning ;  her  legs  moved  rest- 
lessly ;  her  eyes  were  covered  with  a  film  of  sleep  and 
weariness ;  her  lips  opened  involuntarily,  and  her  breast 
heaved  high  and  heavily. 

The  harvest-time  had  begun  two  weeks  ago,  and  the 
hard,  uninterrupted  work  had  occupied  all  the  life  of 
the  young  girl.  She  jumped  up  from  bed  with  the  dawn, 
washed  her  face  in  cold  water,  wrapped  herself  with  a 
kerchief,  and  ran  barefooted  to  the  cattle.  She  hastily 
put  on  her  shoes  and  her  half -coat,  and,  tying  some  bread 


248  THE   COSSACKS 

in  a  bundle,  hitched  the  oxen,  and  went  for  the  whole  day 
to  the  vineyard.  There  she  rested  but  one  hour  ;  she  cut 
the  grapes  and  carried  the  baskets,  and  in  the  evening, 
merry  and  not  at  all  tired,  she  returned  to  the  village, 
leading  the  oxen  by  a  rope,  and  urging  them  on  with 
a  long  stick.  After  housing  the  cattle  in  the  twilight, 
she  filled  her  wide  shirt-sleeve  with  seeds,  and  went  to 
the  corner  to  laugh  with  the  girls.  But  the  moment  the 
evening  glow  gave  place  to  darkness,  she  walked  back  to 
the  house,  and,  having  eaten  her  supper  in  the  dark  dairy, 
with  her  father,  her  mother,  and  her  little  brother,  she 
walked  into  the  room,  free  from  cares  and  healthy,  and 
seated  herself  on  the  oven  and,  half-dozing,  hstened  to 
the  lodger's  conversation.  The  moment  he  left,  she  threw 
herself  down  on  the  bed,  and  slept  until  morning  a  quiet, 
sound  sleep.  The  next  day  was  the  same.  She  had  not 
seen  Lukashka  since  the  betrothal,  and  she  quietly 
awaited  the  day  of  her  wedding.  She  was  now  accus- 
tomed to  the  lodger,  and  it  gave  her  pleasure  to  feel  his 
steady  glance  resting  upon  her. 


XXX. 

Though  it  was  impossible  to  find  a  comfortable  place 
in  the  heat,  and  the  gnats  were  circling  in  swarms  in  the 
cool  shade  of  the  cart,  and  the  boy,  tossing,  kept  pushing 
her,  Maryanka  drew  her  kerchief  over  her  head,  and  was 
going  to  sleep,  wlien  Ustenka,  her  neighbour,  suddenly 
came  running  to  her  and,  darting  under  the  cart,  lay 
down  alongside  her. 

"  Now,  sleep,  girls,  sleep ! "  said  Ustenka,  finding  a 
place  under  the  cart.  "  Hold  on,"  she  exclaimed,  "  that 
will  not  do  !  " 

She  jumped  up,  broke  off  some  green  branches,  placed 
them  against  the  wheels  of  the  cart,  and  threw  a  half-coat 
over  them. 

"  Let  me  in,"  she  called  out  to  the  little  boy,  again 
crawling  under  the  cart.  "  Cossacks  ought  not  to  stay 
with  the  girls !     Go  ! " 

When  Ustenka  was  left  all  alone  with  her  friend  under 
the  cart,  she  suddenly  began  to  hug  Maryanka  with  both 
her  arms,  and,  pressing  close  to  her,  began  to  kiss  her 
cheeks  and  neck. 

"  My  dear  one  !  My  sweetheart ! "  she  said,  breaking 
out  into  her  delicate,  ringing  laughter. 

"  I  declare,  you  have  learned  this  from  the  little  grand- 
father," rephed  Maryanka,  warding  her  off.  "  Come,  stop 
it!" 

And  botli  of  them  burst  out  laughing  so  that  the 
mother  scolded  them. 

"  Are  you  jealous  ? "  Ustenka  aaid,  in  a  whisper. 

249 


250  THE    COSSACKS 

"  Don't  talk  nonsense  !  Let  me  sleep !  What  did  you 
come  for  ? " 

But  Ustenka  would  not  quiet  down, 

"  I  want  to  tell  you  something  ! " 

Maryanka  raised  herself  on  her  elbow,  and  adjusted 
the  kerchief  that  had  slipped  down. 

"  What  is  it  ?  " 

"  I  know  something  about  your  lodger." 

"  There  is  nothing  to  know,"  replied  Maryanka. 

"  You  are  a  sly  girl ! "  said  Ustenka,  nudging  her  with 
her  elbow,  and  laughing.  "  Won't  you  tell  me  anything  ? 
Does  he  come  to  see  you  ? " 

"  Yes.  What  of  it  ? "  said  Maryanka,  suddenly  blush- 
ing- 

"  Now,  I  am  a  simple  girl,  and  will  tell  everybody. 
Why  should  I  hide  it  ? "  said  Ustenka,  and  her  gay, 
ruddy  face  assumed  a  pensive  expression.  "  Am  I  doing 
anybody  any  harm  ?     I  love  him,  that's  all !  " 

"  The  little  grandfather,  you  mean  ? " 

"  Yes." 

"  That  is  sinful !  "  replied  Maryanka. 

"  0  Maryanka !  When  is  one  to  have  a  good  time, 
if  not  while  one  has  a  girl's  freedom  ?  When  I  marry 
a  Cossack,  I  shall  begin  bearing  children,  and  know  what 
cares  are.  Now,  you  just  marry  Lukashka,  then  you 
won't  have  joy  in  your  mind ;  but  there  will  be  children, 
and  work." 

"  What  of  it  ?  Some  are  quite  happy  when  married. 
It  does  not  make  much  difference ! "  Maryanka  answered, 
calmly. 

"  Do  tell  me,  what  has  there  been  between  you  and 
Lukashka  ? " 

"  What  ?  He  sent  go-betweens.  Father  put  it  off  for 
a  year ;  but  there  has  been  a  betrothal,  and  in  the 
autumn  I  am  to  be  married." 

"  What  did  he  say  to  you  ? " 


THE    COSSACKS  251 

Mary^nka  smiled. 

"  What  they  always  say.  He  said  he  loved  me !  He 
kept  asking  me  to  go  to  the  garden  with  him." 

"  Just  like  pitch  !  I  guess  you  did  not  go  !  What  a 
fine  fellow  he  is  now !  A  first-class  brave !  He  is  all 
the  time  celebrating  at  the  company.  The  other  day  our 
Kirka  came  down,  and  told  me  what  a  horse  he  had 
swapped  off !  I  suppose  he  feels  lonely  for  you.  What 
else  did  he  say  ? "  Ustenka  asked  Maryanka. 

"  You  want  to  know  everything,"  laughed  Maryanka. 
"  He  once  rode  up  in  the  night  to  the  window,  —  he  was 
drunk.     He  asked  me  to  let  him  in." 

"  Well,  and  you  did  not  let  him  in  ? " 

"  Let  him  in !  When  I  once  say  no,  that's  the  end 
of  it !  I  am  as  firm  as  a  rock,"  Maryanka  replied, 
seriously. 

"  He  is  a  fine  fellow !  Let  him  only  want  it,  and  no 
girl  will  disdain  him  !  " 

"  Let  him  go  to  other  girls,"  Maryanka  answered, 
proudly. 

"  Are  you  not  sorry  for  him  ?  " 

"I  am,  but  I  will  commit  no  folly.     That  is  wrong." 

Ustenka  suddenly  lowered  her  head  on  her  friend's 
breast,  embraced  her  with  both  her  hands,  and  shook 
with  laughter  that  was  choking  her. 

"  You  are  a  stupid  fool ! "  she  said,  out  of  breath. 
"  You  do  not  want  any  happiness,"  and  again  she  began 
to  tickle  Maryanka. 

"  Oh,  stop ! "  said  Maryanka,  screaming  through  her 
laughter.     "  You  have  crushed  Lazutka." 

"  Just  look  at  the  devils  !  What  fun  !  Stop  it ! "  was 
heard  the  drowsy  voice  of  the  old  woman  beyond  the 
cart. 

"  You  do  not  want  any  happiness,"  repeated  Ustenka, 
in  a  whisper,  half  sitting  up.  "  And  you  are  a  lucky 
girl,    upon    my    word !     How  you    are   loved !     You   are 


252  THE    COSSACKS 

pockmarked,  but  you  are  loved.  Ah,  if  I  were  in  your 
place,  I  would  twist  that  lodger  around  my  little  finger ! 
I  watched  him  when  you  were  at  our  house ;  he  looked  as 
though  he  would  eat  you  with  his  eyes.  My  little  grand- 
father has  given  me  a  lot  of  things !  But  yours,  you 
know,  is  the  richest  among  the  Russians.  His  orderly 
said  that  they  had  serfs  of  their  own." 

Maryanka  arose,  and  smiled,  pensively. 

"  This  is  what  he,  the  lodger,  once  told  me,"  she  said, 
biting  a  blade  of  grass.  "He  said, '  I  should  like  to  be 
Cossack  Lukashka,  or  your  little  brother,  Lazutka.'  What 
did  he  say  that  for  ?  " 

"  He  was  just  saying  anything  that  came  into  his 
head,"  replied  Ustenka.  "  Mine  does  say  such  a  lot  of 
things  !     Like  a  crazy  man  !  " 

Maryanka  fell  with  her  head  on  the  folded  half-coat, 
threw  her  arm  around  Ustenka's  shoulder,  and  closed 
her  eyes. 

"  He  wanted  to  come  to-day  to  the  vineyard  to  work. 
Father  invited  him,"  she  said,  after  a  moment's  silence, 
and  fell  asleep. 


XXXI. 

The  sun  had  now  come  out  from  behind  the  pear-tree 
that  shaded  the  cart,  and,  with  its  ^slanting  rays  that 
passed  through  the  arbour  which  Ustenka  had  built, 
burnt  the  faces  of  the  girls  who  were  sleeping  under  the 
cart.  Maryanka  awoke,  and  began  to  an-ange  her  kerchief. 
As  she  looked  around,  she  saw  the  lodger  beyond  the 
pear-tree,  standing  with  his  gun  on  his  shoulder  and 
speaking  with  her  father.  She  gave  Ustenka  a  push, 
and,  smiling,  pointed  silently  to  him. 

"  I  went  out  yesterday,  but  did  not  find  one,"  said 
Ol^nin,  restlessly  looking  all  about  him,  but  not  discover- 
ing Maryanka  behind  the  branches. 

"  You  had  better  go  to  that  district,  which  you  will 
reach  by  going  along  the  circumference ;  there,  in  the 
neglected  garden,  which  is  called  a  wilderness,  you  will 
always  find  some  hares."  said  the  ensign,  at  once  chang- 
ing his  language. 

"  Who  would  think  of  hunting  the  hare  in  vintage 
time !  You  would  do  better  if  you  came  to  help  us ! 
Come  and  work  with  the  girls ! "  said  the  old  woman. 
"  Come  now,  girls,  ^et  up  I "  she  cried. 

Maryanka  and  Ustenka  were  whispering  to  each  other, 
and  could  not  keep  from  laughing  under  the  cart. 

Ever  since  it  had  become  known  that  Olenin  had  pre- 
sented Lukashka  with  a  horse  worth  fifty  roubles,  the 
ensign  and  his  wife  had  been  more  friendly  to  him ; 
the  ensign,  in  particular,  was  pleased  with  his  closer 
friendship  with  his  daughter. 

253 


254  THE    COSSACKS 

"  I  do  not  know  how  to  work,"  said  Ol^nin,  trying  not 
to  look  through  tlie  green  branches  under  the  cart,  where 
he  had  espied  Maryauka's  bkie  shirt  and  red  kerchief. 

"  Come  along,  I  will  give  you  some  peaches,"  said  the 
old  woman. 

"  As  is  the  old  Cossack  hospitality,  and  mere  woman's 
foolishness,"  said  the  ensign,  explaining  and,  as  it  were, 
correcting  the  words  of  the  old  woman.  "  In  Russia, 
I  suppose,  you  have  eaten  for  your  pleasure  not  so  much 
peaches  as  pineapple  preserves  and  jams." 

"  So  there  are  some  hares  in  the  neglected  garden  ? " 
asked  Ol^nin.  "I  will  go  down  there,"  and, 'casting  a 
cursory  glance  through  the  green  branches,  he  lifted  his 
cap  and  disappeared  between  the  regular  green  rows  of 
the  vineyard. 

The  sun  was  hidden  behind  the  enclosures  of  the  gar- 
dens, and  its  scattered  rays  were  gleaming  through  the 
translucent  leaves,  when  Olenin  returned  to  the  ensign's 
vineyard.  The  wind  had  subsided,  and  a  fresh  coolness 
was  wafted  through  the  vineyards.  Even  from  a  distance 
Olenin  instinctively  recognized  Maryanka's  blue  shirt 
through  the  rows  of  the  grape-vines,  and,  picking  off 
grapes,  he  walked  up  to  her.  His  panting  dog  also  now 
and  then  tore  off  a  low  hanging  bunch  with  his  dripping 
mouth.  With  flushed  face,  rolled  up  sleeves,  and  the 
kerchief  falling  below  her  chin,  Maryanka  deftly  cut  the 
heavy  clusters  and  laid  them  down  in  wicker  baskets. 
Without  letting  the  vine,  which  she  was  holding,  out  of 
her  hands,  she  stopped,  smiled  graciously,  and  again  went 
to  work.  Olenin  went  up  to  her,  and  slung  his  gun  over 
his  back,  so  as  to  have  his  hands  free. 

"  Wliere  are  your  people  ?  God  aid  you  !  Are  you 
alone  ? "  was  what  he  wanted  to  say,  but  he  said  nothing, 
and  only  raised  his  cap.  He  did  not  feel  at  ease  when 
he  was  left  alone  with  Maryanka,  but  he  walked  over  to 
her,  as  though  to  torment  himself. 


THE    COSSACKS  255 

"You  will  kill  a  woman  yet,  carrying  the  gun  that 
way,"  Maryauka  said. 

"  No,  I  won't ! " 

They  were  both  silent. 

"  You  had  better  help  me." 

He  drew  out  his  pocket-knife  and  began  to  cut  off  the 
clusters  in  silence.  He  fetched  out  from  underneath 
some  leaves  a  heavy,  solid  bunch,  weighing  about  three 
pounds,  in  which  the  grapes  were  crowding  each  other 
into  flattened  shapes,  and  he  showed  it  to  ]\Iaryanka. 

"  Shall  I  cut  them  all  ?     This  one  is  still  green." 

"  Give  it  to  me  ! " 

Their  hands  met.  Ol^nin  took  hers,  and  she  glanced 
at  him,  smiling. 

"  Well,  so  you  are  going  to  get  married  soon  ?  "  he  said. 

She  did  not  answer,  but,  turning  away  from  him,  gave 
him  a  stern  look  from  her  eyes. 

"  Do  you  love  Lukashka  ?  " 

"  What  is  that  to  you  ?  " 

"  I  am  jealous." 

«  What  of  it  ?  " 

"  Really,  you  are  such  a  beauty  !  " 

And  he  suddenly  had  terrible  scruples  for  having  said 
it.  His  words,  he  thought,  sounded  so  detestable.  He 
flushed,  lost  his  composure,  and  took  both  her  hands. 

"  Such  as  I  am,  I  am  not  for  you !  What  are  you 
laughing  about  ? "  replied  Maryauka,  but  her  glance 
showed  conclusively  that  she  knew  he  was  not  laughing. 

"  Laughing  ?     If  you  only  knew  how  I  —  " 

His  words  sounded  even  more  detestable,  and  less  in 
accord  with  his  feelings ;  but  he  continued,  "  I  can't  tell 
what  I  should  be  willing  to  do  for  you  —  " 

"  Keep  away,  you  stick  to  me  like  pitch." 

But  her  face,  her  sparkling  eyes,  her  swelling  bosom, 
her  shapely  legs,  said  something  quite  different.  It  seemed 
to  him  that  she  understood  perfectly  how  detestable  every- 


ii56  THE    COSSACKS 

thing  was  that  he  had  said,  but  that  she  was  above  all 
such  considerations ;  it  seemed  to  him  that  she  had  long 
known  all  he  wished  to  say,  but  could  not,  and  that  she 
only  wanted  to  know  how  he  would  say  it  all.  And  how 
could  she  help  knowing  it,  since  he  wished  to  tell  her 
all  she  herself  was  ?  "  She  does  not  want  to  understand, 
she  does  not  want  to  answer,"  he  thought. 

"  Hallo ! "  suddenly  was  heard,  not  far  beyond  the 
vineyard,  Ustenka's  thin  voice  and  her  delicate  laughter. 
"  Come,  Dmitri  Andr^evich,  and  help  me !  I  am  all 
alone ! "  she  cried  to  Ol^nin,  thrusting  her  round,  naive 
little  face  through  the  leaves. 

Ol^nin  did  not  answer,  nor  stir  from  the  spot. 

Maryanka  continued  to  cut  the  clusters,  but  constantly 
gazed  at  the  lodger.  He  began  to  say  something,  but 
stopped,  shrugged  his  shoulders,  and,  shouldering  his  gun, 
walked  out  of  the  garden  with  rapid  strides. 


XXXII. 

Once  or  twice  he  stopped  to  listen  to  the  ringing 
laughter  of  Maryanka  and  Ustenka,  who,  having  come 
together,  were  shouting  something.  OMnin  passed  the 
whole  evening  hunting  in  the  woods.  He  did  not  bag 
anything,  and  returned  home  after  dark.  As  he  crossed 
the  yard,  he  noticed  the  open  door  of  the  dairy,  and  the 
blue  shirt  flashing  by  within.  He  called  unusually  loud 
to  Vanyusha,  to  let  his  arrival  be  known,  and  seated  him- 
self in  his  customary  place  on  the  porch.  The  ensign  and 
his  wife  had  already  returned  from  the  vineyard ;  they 
came  out  of  the  dairy,  walked  over  to  their  cabin,  but  did 
not  invite  him  in. 

Maryanka  went  twice  out  of  the  gate.  Once,  in  a  half- 
light,  he  thought  she  looked  back  at  him.  He  eagerly 
followed  every  motion  of  hers,  but  could  not  make  up  his 
mind  to  walk  up  to  her.  When  she  had  disappeared  in 
the  cabin,  he  descended  from  the  porch,  and  began  to 
pace  the  yard.     But  Maryanka  did  not  come  out  again. 

Ol^nin  passed  a  sleepless  night  in  the  yard,  listening 
to  every  sound  in  the  ensign's  cabin.  He  heard  them 
talking  in  the  evening,  then  eating  their  supper,  and 
taking  out  the  cushions,  and  lying  down  to  sleep ;  he 
heard  Maryanka  laughing  at  something,  and  then  he  heard 
how  all  the  noises  died  down.  The  ensign  said  some- 
thing in  a  whisper  to  his  wife,  and  somebody  breathed 
heavily. 

He  went  to  his  room.     Vanyusha  was  sleeping,  with- 

257 


258  THE   COSSACKS 

out  being  undressed.  OMnin  envied  him,  and  again  went 
out  promenading  in  the  yard,  all  the  time  waiting  for 
something ;  but  nobody  came,  nobody  stirred  ;  he  could 
hear  only  the  even  breathing  of  three  people.  He  could 
tell  Maryanka's  breathing,  and  he  listened  to  it,  and  to 
the  thudding  of  his  own  heart.  Everything  was  quiet 
in  the  village ;  the  late  moon  had  risen,  and  he  could  dis- 
cern the  cattle  that  were  panting  in  the  yards,  now  lying 
down,  and  now  slowly  getting  up. 

OMuin  asked  himself,  in  anger,  "  What  do  I  want  ? " 
and  could  not  tear  himself  away  from  the  enticement  of 
the  night.  Suddenly  he  heard  distinct  steps,  and  the 
creaking  of  the  floor  in  the  ensign's  cabin.  He  rushed  to 
the  door ;  and  again  nothing  was  heard  but  the  even 
breathing ;  and  again,  after  drawing  a  deep  breath,  the 
buffalo  turned  around,  rose  on  her  fore  legs,  then  got  com- 
pletely up,  switched  her  tail,  and  something  splashed 
evenly  on  the  dry  clay  of  the  yard,  and  again  she  lay 
down,  with  a  groan,  in  the  glamour  of  the  moon  — 

He  asked  himself,  "  What  am  I  to  do  ? "  and  took  his 
final  resolve  to  go  to  bed ;  but  some  sounds  were  heard 
again,  and  in  his  imagination  rose  the  image  of  Maryanka, 
walking  out  into  the  misty  moonlit  night,  and  again  he 
rushed  to  the  -window,  and  again  steps  were  heard. 
Just  before  daybreak  he  walked  over  to  the  window, 
pushed  the  shutter,  ran  up  to  the  door,  and  indeed 
heard  Maryanka's  deep  breath  and  steps.  He  took 
hold  of  the  latch,  and  knocked.  Cautious,  bare  feet, 
hardly  causing  the  deals  to  creak,  approached  the  door. 
The  latch  was  moved,  the  door  creaked,  an  odour  of  wild 
marjoram  and  pumpkins  was  wafted  to  him,  and  Mar- 
yanka's whole  figure  appeared  on  the  threshold.  He  saw 
her  but  a  moment  in  the  moonlight.  She  slammed  the 
door,  and,  saying  something  under  her  breath,  ran  back 
with  light  steps.  01(^uin  began  lightly  to  tap  on  the 
door,  but  there  was  no  answer.    He  ran  up  to  the  window 


THE    COSSACKS  259 

and  listened.  Suddenly  he  was  struck  by  a  shrill,  whining 
voice. 

"  Glorious ! "  said  an  undersized  Cossack  in  a  white 
lambskin  cap,  walking  close  up  to  OMnin  from  the  yard. 
"  I  have  seen  it  all !     Glorious ! " 

OMnin  recognized  Nazarka  and  was  silent,  not  knowing 
what  to  do,  or  say. 

"  Glorious  !  I  will  go  to  the  village  office  to  report  the 
matter,  and  I  will  tell  her  father,  too.  A  fine  ensign's 
daughter !     She  is  not  satisfied  with  one." 

"  What  do  you  want  of  me  ?  What  do  you  want  ?  " 
said  Ol^nin. 

"  Nothing !     All  I  will  do  is  to  report  at  the  office." 

Nazarka  spoke  in  a  very  loud  voice,  evidently  on  pur- 
pose. 

"  I  declare,  you  are  a  clever  yunker ! " 

Olenin  trembled  and  was  pale. 

"  Come  here,  here  ! " 

He  clutched  his  hand,  and  led  him  up  to  his  cabin. 

"  There  was  nothing.  She  did  not  let  me  in,  and  I  did 
nothing  —      She  is  virtuous  —  " 

"  Well,  let  them  settle  the  matter,"  said  Nazarka. 

"  I  will  give  you  something  all  the  same  —     Just  wait ! " 

Nazarka  was  silent.  01(5nin  ran  into  his  cabin,  and 
brought  out  ten  roubles  for  the  Cossack. 

"  There  has  been  nothing  the  matter,  but  I  am  to 
blame,  nevertheless ;  so  I  give  you  this  !  Only,  for  God's 
sake,  tell  nobody  !     Nothing  has  happened  —  " 

"  Farewell,"  said  Nazarka,  smiling,  and  went  away. 

Nazarka  had  come  that  night  to  the  village,  by  Lu- 
kashka's  order,  to  find  a  place  for  a  stolen  horse,  and,  on 
his  way  home,  heard  the  sound  of  steps.  He  returned  the 
next  morning  to  the  company,  and,  boasting,  told  his  chum 
how  cleverly  he  had  procured  ten  roubles.  The  next 
morning  Olenin  called  at  the  ensign's,  and  no  one  knew 
anything.      He  did  not  speak  with  Maryanka,  and  she 


260  THE    COSSACKS 

only  smiled,  looking  at  him.  He  again  passed  a  sleepless 
night,  pacing  the  yard  in  vain.  The  following  day  he 
purposely  passed  in  the  woods  hunting,  and  in  the  even- 
ing he  went  to  Byel^tski's,  to  run  away  from  himself.  He 
was  afraid  of  himself,  and  swore  he  would  not  call  again 
at  the  ensign's.  The  following  night  Ol^nin  was  wakened 
by  the  sergeant.  The  company  was  to  make  an  incursion 
at  once.  Ol^nin  was  rejoiced  at  tMs  incident,  and  was 
making  up  his  mind  never  again  to  return  to  the  village. 
The  incursion  lasted  four  days.  The  chief  desired  to 
see  Ol^nin,  to  whom  he  was  related,  and  offered  him  a 
place  on  the  staff.  01(^nin  declined  it.  He  could  not 
live  away  from  the  village,  and  asked  to  be  sent  back. 
For  his  work  during  the  campaign  he  received  a  soldier's 
cross,  for  wdiich  he  had  been  hankering  before ;  but  now 
he  was  quite  indifferent  to  this  decoration,  and  still  more 
indiff'ereut  about  his  advancement  to  the  rank  of  a  regular 
officer,  which  was  still  late  in  coming.  He  rode  with 
Vanyilsha  do"svn  to  the  line,  without  meeting  with  any 
mishap,  and  by  several  hours  got  the  start  of  his  com- 
pany. Ol^nin  passed  the  whole  evening  on  the  porch, 
looking  at  Maryanka.  The  wiiole  night  he  again  aim- 
lessly and  thoughtlessly  paced  the  yard. 


XXXIII. 

The  next  morning  Olenin  awoke  late.  The  ensign's 
family  was  gone.  He  did  not  go  hunting ;  he  now  picked 
up  a  book,  and  now  walked  out  on  the  porch,  and  again 
walked  into  the  room,  and  lay  down  on  the  bed.  Van- 
yiislia  thought  he  was  ill.  In  the  evening  OMuin  arose 
with  a  full  determination,  took  up  a  pen,  and  wrote  until 
late  into  the  night.  He  wrote  a  letter,  but  did  not  send 
it  off,  because  no  one  would  have  understood  what  he 
wanted  to  say,  nor  was  there  any  reason  why  any  one  but 
Olenin  should  have  understood  it.  This  is  what  he 
wrote: 

"  I  receive  from  Russia  letters  of  sympathy ;  people  are 
afraid  that  I  will  perish  in  the  wilderness,  where  I  have 
buried  myself.  They  say  of  me :  '  He  will  lose  his  polish, 
will  fall  behind  in  everything,  will  take  to  drinking,  and, 
what  is  worse,  will  probably  marry  a  Cossack  woman. 
There  was  good  reason,'  they  say,  '  for  Ermolov  to  have 
remarked  that  he  who  had  served  ten  years  in  the  Cauca- 
sus would  either  become  a  confirmed  drunkard,  or  would 
marry  a  cUssolute  woman.  How  terrible  ! '  Indeed,  they 
are  afraid  lest  I  should  ruin  myself,  whereas  it  might  have 
been  my  lot  to  have  the  great  fortune  of  becoming  the 

husband  of  Countess  B ,  a  chamberlain,  or  a  marshal 

of  the  nobility.  How  contemptible  and  pitiable  you  all 
appear  to  me !  You  do  not  know  what  happiness  nor 
what  life  is !  You  have  first  to  taste  life  in  all  its  artless 
beauty ;  you  must  see  and  understand  what  I  see  before 
me  each  day  :  the  eternal,  inaccessible  snows  of  the  moun- 

261 


262  THE    COSSACKS 

tains,  and  majestic  woman  in  her  pristine  beauty,  as  the 
first  woman  must  have  issued  from  the  hands  of  her 
Creator,  —  and  then  it  will  be  clear  who  it  is  that  is 
being  ruined,  and  who  lives  according  to  the  truth,  you 
or  I. 

"  If  you  only  knew  how  detestable  and  pitiable  you  are 
to  me  in  your  delusions !  The  moment  there  rise  before 
me,  instead  of  my  cabin,  my  forest,  and  my  love,  those 
drawing-rooms,  those  women  with  pomaded  hair,  through 
which  the  false  locks  appear,  those  unnaturally  lisping 
lips,  those  concealed  and  distorted  limbs,  and  that  prattle 
of  the  drawing-rooms,  which  pretends  to  be  conversation, 
but  has  no  right  to  be  called  so,  —  an  insufferable  feeling 
of  disgust  comes  over  me.  I  see  before  me  those  dull  faces, 
those  rich,  marriageable  girls,  with  an  expression  on  the 
face  which  says, '  That's  all  right,  you  may  —  Just  come 
up  to  me,  even  though  I  am  a  rich,  marriageable  girl;' 
that  sitting  down  and  changing  of  places ;  that  impudent 
pairing  of  people,  and  that  never  ending  gossip  and  hypoc- 
risy ;  those  rules  —  to  this  one  your  hand,  to  that  one  a 
nod,  and  with  that  one  a  chat ;  and  finally,  that  eternal 
ennui  m  the  blood,  which  passes  from  generation  to  gen- 
eration (and  consciously  at  that,  with  the  conviction  of 
its  necessity).  You  must  understand,  or  believe  it.  You 
must  see  and  grasp  what  truth  and  beauty  are,  and  every- 
thing which  you  say  and  think,  all  your  wishes  for  your 
own  happiness  and  for  mine,  will  be  dispersed  to  the 
winds.  Happiness  consists  in  being  with  Nature,  in  see- 
ing it,  and  holding  converse  with  it.  '  The  Lord  preserve 
him,  l3ut  he  will,  no  doubt,  marry  a  Cossack  woman,  and 
will  be  entirely  lost  to  society,'  I  imagine  them  saying 
about  me,  with  genuine  compassion,  whereas  it  is  pre- 
cisely this  that  I  wish :  to  be  entirely  lost,  in  your  sense 
of  the  word,  and  to  marry  a  simple  Cossack  woman ;  I 
dare  not  do  it,  because  that  would  be  the  acme  of  happi- 
ness, of  which  I  am  unworthy. 


THE    COSSACKS  263 

"  Three  months  have  passed  since  I  for  the  first  time 
saw  the  Cossack  maiden,  Maryanka.  The  conceptions 
and  prejudices  of  the  society  from  which  I  had  issued 
were  still  fresh  in  me.  I  did  not  believe  then  that  I 
could  fall  in  love  with  this  woman.  I  admired  her,  as 
I  admired  the  beauty  of  the  mountains  and  of  the  sky, 
nor  could  I  help  admiring  her,  for  she  is  as  beautiful  as 
they.  Then  I  felt  that  the  contemplation  of  this  beauty 
had  become  a  necessity  of  my  life,  and  I  began  to  ask 
myself  whether  I  did  not  love  her ;  but  I  did  not  find  in 
myself  anything  resembling  the  feehng  as  I  had  imagined 
it  to  be.  This  sentiment  resembled  neither  the  longing 
for  solitude,  nor  the  desire  for  matrimony,  nor  platonic 
love,  still  less  carnal  love,  which  I  had  experienced.  1 
had  to  see  and  hear  her,  to  know  that  she  was  near,  and 
I  was  not  exactly  bappy,  but  calm.  After  an  evening 
party,  which  I  had  attended  with  her,  and  at  which  I  had 
touched  her,  I  felt  that  between  that  woman  and  myself 
existed  an  indissoluble,  though  unacknowledged,  bond, 
against  which  it  would  be  vain  to  struggle.  But  1  did 
struggle.  I  said  to  myself :  '  Is  it  possible  for  me  to  love 
a  woman  who  will  never  comprehend  the  spiritual  inter- 
ests of  my  life  ?  Can  I  love  a  woman  for  her  mere  beauty, 
can  I  love  a  statue  of  a  woman  ? '  I  asked  myself,  and  I 
was  loving  her  all  the  time,  though  I  did  not  trust  my 
own  sentiment. 

"  After  the  party,  when  I  had  spoken  to  her  for  the 
first  time,  our  relations  were  changed.  Before  that  time 
she  was  to  me  a  foreign,  but  majestic,  object  of  external 
Nature;  after  the  party,  she  became  a  human  being  for 
me.  I  have  met  her  and  spoken  with  her ;  and  I  have 
been  with  her  father  at  work,  and  have  passed  whole 
evenings  in  their  company.  And  in  these  close  relations 
she  has  remained,  to  my  thinking,  just  as  pure,  inacces- 
sible, and  majestic.  To  all  questions  she  has  always 
answered  in  the  same  calm,  proud,  and  gaily  indifferent 


264  THE    COSSACKS 

manner.  At  times  she  has  been  gracious,  but  for  the 
most  part  every  glance,  every  word,  every  motion  of  hers, 
has  expressed  the  same,  not  contemptuous,  but  repressive 
and  enticing  indifference. 

"  Each  day  I  tried,  with  a  feigning  smile  on  my  lips,  to 
dissemble,  and,  with  the  torment  of  passion  and  of  desires 
in  my  heart,  I  spoke  jestingly  to  her.  But  she  saw  that 
I  was  dissembling,  and  yet  looked  gaily  and  simply  at 
me.  This  situation  grew  intolerable  to  me.  I  did  not 
wish  to  he  before  her,  and  wanted  to  tell  her  everything 
I  thought  and  everything  I  felt.  I  was  very  much  ex- 
cited ;  that  was  in  the  vineyard.  I  began  to  tell  her  of 
my  love,  in  words  that  I  am  ashamed  to  recall.  I  am 
ashamed  to  think  of  them,  because  I  ought  never  to  have 
dared  to  tell  her  that,  and  because  she  stood  immeasur- 
ably above  the  words  and  above  the  feeling  which  I  had 
intended  to  express  to  her.  I  grew  silent,  and  since  that 
day  my  situation  has  been  insufferable.  I  did  not  wish 
to  lower  myself,  by  persisting  in  the  former  jocular  rela- 
tions, and  I  was  conscious  that  I  was  not  yet  ripe  for 
straightforward,  simple  relations  with  her.  I  asked  my- 
self in  despair,  '  What  shall  I  do  ? ' 

"  In  my  preposterous  dreams  I  imagined  her,  now  as 
my  mistress,  and  now  as  my  wife,  and  I  repelled  both 
thoughts  in  disgust.  It  would  be  terrible  to  make  a  mis- 
tress of  her.  It  would  be  a  murder.  And  it  would  be 
still  worse  to  make  a  lady  of  her,  the  wife  of  Dmitri 
Andr(5evich  Ol^nin,  as  one  of  our  officers  has  made  a  lady 
of  a  Cossack  girl  of  this  place,  whom  he  has  married.  If 
I  could  turn  Cossack,  become  a  Lukashka,  steal  herds  of 
horses,  fill  myself  with  red  wine,  troll  songs,  kill  people, 
and  when  drunk  climb  through  the  window  to  pass  the 
night  with  her,  without  asking  myself  who  I  am  and 
why  I  am,  —  it  would  be  a  different  matter ;  then  we 
could  understand  each  other,  and  I  might  be  happy. 

"  I  tried  to  abandon  myself  to  such  a  life,  but  it  made 


THE    COSSACKS  265 

me  only  feel  more  strongly  my  weakness,  my  contorted 
existence.  I  could  not  forget  myself  and  my  composite, 
inharmonious,  monstrous  past.  And  my  future  presents 
itself  to  me  still  more  disconsolately.  Each  day  the  dis- 
tant snow-capped  mountains  and  that  majestic,  happy 
woman  are  before  me.  But  not  for  me  is  the  only  pos- 
sible happiness  in  the  world ;  not  for  me  is  this  woman  ! 

"  Most  terrible  and  sweetest  to  me,  in  my  situation, 
was  the  consciousness  that  I  understood  her,  while  she 
would  never  understand  me.  She  will  not  understand 
me,  not  because  she  stands  below  me,  but  she  never 
ought  to  understand  me.  She  is  happy ;  she  is  like 
Nature,  —  even,  calm,  and  herself.  But  I,  w^eak,  con- 
torted creature,  want  her  to  understand  my  unnaturalness 
and  my  suffering. 

"  I  have  passed  sleepless  nights,  and  aimlessly  stood 
under  her  windows,  without  giving  myself  an  account  of 
what  was  going  on  within  me.  On  the  18th,  our  com- 
pany was  called  out  to  make  an  incursion.  I  passed 
three  days  outside  the  village.  I  was  melancholy,  and 
nothing  interested  me.  The  songs,  the  card-playing,  the 
drinking  bouts,  the  conversations  about  rewards  in  the 
detachment,  were  more  loathsome  to  me  than  ever.  I  re- 
turned home  to-day  ;  I  saw  her,  my  cabin,  Uncle  Eroslika, 
and  the  snow-capped  mountains  from  my  porch,  and  I 
was  seized  by  such  a  strong  and  novel  feeling  of  joy,  that 
I  understood  everything.  I  love  that  woman  with  a  real 
love ;  I  love  for  the  first  and  only  time  in  my  life.  I 
know  what  the  matter  with  me  is.  I  am  not  afraid  to 
lower  myself  through  my  sentiment,  am  not  ashamed  of 
my  love,  but  proud  of  it. 

"  It  is  not  my  fault  that  I  have  fallen  in  love.  It 
happened  against  my  will.  I  took  refuge  from  my  love 
in  self-renunciation ;  I  made  myself  believe  that  I  took 
delight  in  the  love  of  the  Cossack  Lukashka  for  Maryanka, 
and  I  only  fanned  my  love  and  my  jealousy.     This  is  not 


266  THE    COSSACKS 

an  ideal,  a  so-called  exalted  love,  which  I  had  experienced 
heretofore ;  not  that  feeling  of  transport,  when  a  person 
contemplates  his  love,  feels  within  him  the  source  of  Ms 
sentiment,  and  does  everything  himself.  I  have  expe- 
rienced that  also.  This  is  even  less  a  desire  for  enjoy- 
ment, —  it  is  something  else.  Maybe  in  her  I  love 
Nature,  the  personification  of  everything  beautiful  in 
Nature ;  but  I  have  not  my  own  will,  and  through  me  an 
elementary  force  loves  her,  and  the  whole  world,  all 
Nature,  impresses  this  love  upon  my  soul,  and  says  to  me, 
'  Love  ! '  I  love  her  not  with  my  mind,  not  with  my  imag- 
ination, but  with  my  whole  being.  Loving  her,  I  feel 
myself  an  inseparable  part  of  the  whole  blissful  world  of 
the  Lord. 

"  I  have  written  you  before  about  my  new  convictions, 
which  I  had  carried  away  from  my  solitary  life  ;  but  no- 
body can  know  with  what  labour  they  were  worked  out 
within  me,  with  what  delight  1  hailed  them,  and  how 
happy  I  was  to  see  the  new  path  of  life  open  to  me. 
There  was  nothing  more  precious  to  me  than  these  con- 
victions —  Well  —  love  came,  and  they  are  gone,  and 
not  even  the  regrets  for  them  are  left !  It  is  even  difhcult 
for  me  to  grasp  how  I  could  have  been  carried  away  by 
such  a  cold,  one-sided,  mental  mood.  Beauty  came,  and 
all  the  monumental  labour  of  the  mind  is  scattered  to 
the  winds.  I  have  not  even  any  regrets  for  what  has 
passed  away ! 

"  Self-renunciation  is  nonsense,  wild  rambling.  It  is 
nothing  but  pride,  a  refuge  from  a  well-deserved  misfor- 
tune, a  salvation  from  envying  another's  happiness.  To 
live  for  others,  to  do  good  !  Wherefore  ?  When  my  soul 
is  filled  with  the  one  love  of  myself,  and  with  the  one 
desire  to  love  her,  and  live  with  her,  to  live  her  life.  I 
now  wish  happiness,  not  for  others,  not  for  Lukashka. 
Now  I  do  not  love  these  others.  Formerly  I  should  have 
said  tliat  this  is  bad.     I  should  have  tormented  myself 


THE   COSSACKS  267 

with  the  questions,  '  What  will  become  of  her,  of  me,  of 
Lukashka  ? '  Now  it  is  all  the  same  to  me.  I  live  not 
in  myself,  but  there  is  something  stronger  than  myself 
that  guides  me.  I  suffer ;  but  formerly  I  was  dead,  and 
now  only  I  live.  I  will  call  on  them  to-day,  and  will  tell 
her  everything." 


XXXIV. 

Having  finished  the  letter,  OMnin  went  late  in  the 
evening  to  the  ensign's  cabin.  The  old  woman  was 
sitting  on  a  bench  behind  the  oven,  unravelling  cocoons. 
Maryanka,  with  bared  head,  was  sewing  by  candle-light. 
When  she  saw  Olenin,  she  sprang  up,  took  her  kerchief, 
and  went  up  to  the  oven. 

"  Stay  with  us,  Maryanushka,"  said  her  mother. 

"  No,  I  am  bareheaded."  And  she  leaped  upon  the 
oven. 

01(5nin  saw  only  her  knees  and  her  shapely  legs  that 
were  hanging  down.  He  treated  the  old  woman  to  tea, 
and  she  treated  her  guest  to  boiled  cream,  for  which  she 
sent  Maryanka.  Having  placed  the  plate  on  the  table, 
Maryanka  again  leaped  upon  the  oven,  and  Olenin  was 
conscious  only  of  her  glance.  They  were  speaking  of 
house  matters.  Mother  Ulitka  unbosomed  herself,  and 
was  in  a  mood  of  hospitality.  She  brought  Olenin  grape 
preserves,  grape  cake,  and  the  best  wine,  and  she  began  to 
treat  him  with  that  peculiar,  plebeian,  coarse,  and  proud 
hospitality  which  is  found  only  among  people  who  earn 
their  bread  by  physical  labour.  The  old  woman,  who  at 
first  had  impressed  Olenin  with  her  coarseness,  now  fre- 
quently touched  him  by  her  simple  tenderness  in  relation 
to  her  daughter. 

"  We  need  not  complain,  dear  sir !  We  have  every- 
thing, thank  God !  We  have  pressed  some  wine,  and 
have  preserved  some,  and  we  shall  be  able  to  sell  three 

268 


THE    COSSACKS  269 

barrels  or  more  of  grapes,  and  there  will  be  enough  left  to 
drink.  Don't  be  in  a  hurry  to  leave  us !  We  will  have 
you  celebrate  with  us  at  the  wedding." 

"  When  will  the  wedding  be  ? "  asked  Ol^nin,  feeling 
all  his  blood  rush  to  his  face,  and  his  heart  beating  with 
anjuneven  and  painful  motion. 

There  was  a  stir  behind  the  oven,  and  the  cracking  of 
pumpkin  seeds  was  heard. 

"  Well,  we  ought  to  celebrate  it  next  week.  We  are 
ready,"  replied  the  old  woman,  in  a  quiet,  straightforward 
manner,  as  though  Ol^nin  were  not  there,  or  had  never 
existed.  •  "  I  have  got  everything  together  for  Mar- 
yanushka.  We  will  give  her  a  nice  trousseau.  Only 
this  is  bad :  our  Lukashka  has  been  a  little  wild  of  late. 
He  is  carrying  on  too  much !  He  is  wild !  The  other 
day  a  Cossack  returned  from  the  company,  and  told  us 
that  Lukashka  had  been  to  the  Nogay  country." 

"He  might  get  caught,"  said  Ol^nin. 

"  That's  what  I  say  :  '  You,  Lukashka,  don't  be  so  wild  ! ' 
Of  course,  he  is  a  young  fellow,  and  he  wants  to  show  off. 
But  there  is  a  time  for  everything.  Well,  suppose  he  has 
driven  off  some  cattle,  has  stolen,  has  killed  an  abr^k,  — 
a  fine  fellow  !  It  is  time  to  live  a  peaceable  life ;  but  this 
will  not  do." 

"Yes,  I  saw  him  once  or  twice  at  the  front,  —  he  is 
taking  it  easy.  And  then  he  has  sold  his  horse,"  said 
Ol^nin,  glancing  at  the  oven. 

A  pair  of  large  black  eyes  gleamed  at  him  sternly  and 
malevolently.     He  was  sorry  for  what  he  had  said. 

"  Well !  He  is  doing  no  one  any  harm,"  suddenly  said 
Maryanka.  "  He  is  celebrating  with  his  own  money," 
and  letting  down  her  feet,  she  leaped  from  the  oven  and 
went  out,  slamming  the  door. 

Ol^nin  followed  her  out  with  his  eyes  ;  then  he  looked 
out  into  the  yard,  and  waited,  not  listening  to  what 
Mother  Ulitka  was  telling  him.     A  few  minutes  later 


270  THE    COSSACKS 

guests  entered:  an  old  man.  Mother  Ulitka's  brother, 
Uncle  Eroshka,  and  soon  after,  Maryanka,  with  Ustenka. 

"  Good  evening,"  Ustenka  squeaked.  "  Are  you  still 
celebrating  ? "    she  said,  turning  to  Ol^nin. 

"  Yes,  I  am,"  he  answered,  and  for  some  reason  he  felt 
ashamed  and  ill  at  ease. 

He  wanted  to  go  away,  and  could  not.  Equally,  it 
seemed  impossible  to  him  to  keep  silent.  The  old  man 
helped  him  out :  he  asked  for  something  to  drink,  and 
they  drank  together.  Then  Ol^nin  had  some  wine  with 
Eroshka.  Then  with  the  other  Cossack.  Then  again 
with  Eroshka.  And  the  more  he  drank,  the  heavier  his 
heart  felt.  The  old  men  drank  without  cessation.  The 
two  girls  climbed  on  the  oven,  where  they  giggled,  look- 
ing at  the  men,  who  drank  until  late  into  the  night. 
Ol^nin  did  not  speak,  but  drank  more  than  the  rest. 
The  Cossacks  were  getting  noisy.  The  old  woman  told 
them  to  go,  and  refused  to  give  them  more  wine.  The 
girls  made  fun  of  Uncle  Eroshka ;  it  was  ten  o'clock 
when  they  all  went  out  on  the  porch.  The  old  men 
invited  themselves  to  end  the  night  in  a  drinking  bout  at 
Ol^nin's.  Ustenka  ran  away  home.  Eroshka  took  the 
Cossack  over  to  Vanyilsha.  The  old  woman  went  to 
straighten  out  things  in  the  dairy.  Maryanka  was  left 
alone  in  the  room.  Oleuin  felt  fresh  and  brisk,  as  though 
he  had  just  awakened.  He  took  in  the  situation,  and, 
letting  the  old  men  go  ahead,  returned  to  the  room. 
Marydnka  was  getting  ready  to  go  to  sleep.  He  went 
up  to  her,  and  wished  to  say  something  to  her,  but  his 
voice  broke.  She  sat  down  on  her  bed,  drew  her  feet 
under  her,  moved  away  from  him  into  the  corner,  and 
looked  at  him  in  silence,  with  a  terrified,  wild  glance. 
She  was  evidently  afraid  of  him.  Ol^nin  felt  it.  He  was 
both  sorry  and  ashamed,  but,  at  the  same  time,  felt  a 
proud  pleasure  for  having  evoked  in  her  this  feeling,  if  no 
other. 


THE    COSSACKS  271 

"  Maryauka  !  "  he  said.  "  Will  you  never  have  pity  ou 
me  ?     I  cau't  tell  you  how  I  love  you." 

She  moved  away  still  farther. 

"  It  is  the  wine  that  is  speaking  in  you.  You  will  get 
nothing ! " 

"  No,  not  the  wine.  Do  not  marry  Lukashka  !  I  will 
marry  you." 

"  What  am  I  saying  ? "  he  thought,  as  he  pronounced 
those  words.  "  Will  I  tell  her  this  to-morrow  ?  I  will,  I 
certainly  will,  and  I  will  repeat  it  now,"  an  inner  voice 
answered  him. 

"  Will  you  marry  me  ? " 

She  looked  at  him  earnestly,  and  her  fear  seemed  to 
have  left  her. 

"  Maryauka !  I  shall  lose  my  reason.  I  am  beside 
myself.  I  will  do  whatever  you  tell  me  to,"  and  sense- 
lessly tender  words  flowed  of  their  own  accord. 

"  Don't  talk  such  rubbish  ! "  she  interrupted  him,  sud- 
denly seizing  his  hand  which  he  had  stretched  out  to  her. 
She  did  not  push  it  away,  but  gripped  it  tightly  between 
her  strong,  rough  fingers.  "  Do  gentlemen  marry  Cossack 
girls  ?     Go !  " 

"  Will  you  marry  me  ?     I  will  —  " 

"  And  what  shall  we  do  with  Lukashka  ? "  she  said, 
smiling. 

He  tore  his  hand,  which  she  was  holding,  out  of  hers, 
and  firmly  clasped  her  youthful  body.  But  she  jumped 
up  like  a  deer,  leaped  down  with  her  bare  feet,  and  ran 
out  on  the  porch.  Ol^nin  came  to  his  senses,  and 
was  horror-struck  at  himself.  Again  he  appeared  to 
himself  inexpressibly  detestable  in  comparison  with  her. 
But,  without  repenting  for  a  moment  what  he  had  said, 
he  went  home,  and,  without  paying  any  attention  to  the 
carousing  old  men,  lay  down,  and  slept  a  sound  sleep, 
such  as  he  had  not  slept  for  a  long  time. 


XXXV. 

The  next  day  was  a  holiday.  In  the  evening  all  the 
people  were  in  the  street  displaying  their  gala  attire  in 
the  setting  sun.  More  wine  than  usual  had  been  pressed. 
The  people  were  through  with  the  harvest.  The  Cossacks 
were  preparing  themselves  to  leave  for  an  expedition 
within  a  month,  and  many  families  were  getting  ready  to 
celebrate  weddings. 

In  the  square,  in  front  of  the  village  office,  and  near 
two  shops,  in  one  of  which  sweetmeats  and  pumpkin 
and  melon  seeds  were  sold,  and  in  the  other  kerchiefs  and 
calico,  stood  the  largest  groups.  On  the  mound  of  the 
village  office  stood  and  sat  old  men,  in  simple  gray  and 
black  coats,  without  galloons  and  adornments.  The  old 
men  were  discussing,  in  quiet,  measured  voices,  the  crops 
and  the  young  children,  the  village  affairs  and  the  olden 
times,  sternly  and  indifferently  looking  down  upon  the 
younger  generation.  The  women  and  girls,  passing  by 
them,  stopped  for  a  moment  and  lowered  their  heads. 
The  young  Cossacks  deferentially  shortened  their  steps, 
and,  doffing  their  caps,  held  them  for  awhile  before  their 
heads.  The  old  men  grew  silent.  They  surveyed  the 
passers-by,  now  sternly,  now  kindly,  and  deliberately  took 
off  their  caps  and  put  them  on  again. 

The  Cossack  women  had  not  yet  begun  to  lead  the 
kliorovod,  but,  gathering  in  groups,  in  their  brightly 
coloured  half-coats  and  white  kerchiefs,  which  covered 
their  heads  down  to  the  eyes,  sat  on  the  ground  and  on 
the  mounds,  in  the  shade  formed  by  the  slanting  rays,  and 

272 


THE   COSSACKS  273 

chattered  and  laughed  with  their  ringing  voices.  The  boys 
and  girls  played  ball,  whirling  it  high  up  into  the  air, 
and,  shouting  and  piping,  ran  about  the  square.  The  half- 
grown  girls  at  the  other  end  of  the  square  were  already  lead- 
ing the  khorovod,  and  singing  a  song  in  their  shrill,  timid 
voices.  The  scribes,  the  exempt  from  service,  and  the 
young  lads  who  had  come  home  for  the  holidays,  in  white 
gala  mantles  and  in  new  red  ones  embroidered  with 
galloons,  with  merry  holiday  faces,  walked  hand  in  hand, 
in  groups  of  two  and  three,  from  one  circle  of  women  and 
girls  to  another,  and,  stopping,  jested  and  played  with  the 
Cossack  maidens. 

An  Armenian  shopkeeper,  in  a  blue  mantle  of  fine  cloth 
with  galloons,  was  standing  at  the  open  door,  through  which 
could  be  seen  shelves  with  rolled  up  coloured  kerchiefs, 
and,  with  the  pride  of  an  Eastern  merchant  and  the  con- 
sciousness of  his  importance,  was  waiting  for  customers. 
Two  red-bearded,  barefooted  Chechens,  who  had  come 
from  across  the  T^rek  to  enjoy  the  holiday,  were  sitting 
on  their  heels  near  the  house  of  their  acquaintance,  and, 
carelessly  smoking  their  Httle  pipes  and  continually  spit- 
ting out,  were  exchanging  rapid  guttural  sounds,  as  they 
were  watching  the  people.  Now  and  then  a  soldier  in  an 
old  week-day  overcoat  hurriedly  passed  between  the  varie- 
gated groups  of  the  square.  Here  and  there  were  heard 
the  drunken  songs  of  Cossacks  going  on  a  spree. 

All  the  cabins  were  closed  up,  and  the  porches  had 
been  washed  the  evening  before.  Even  the  old  women 
were  in  the  streets.  Along  the  roads  shells  of  melon  and 
pumpkin  seeds  were  lying  everywhere  in  the  dust.  The 
air  was  warm  and  motionless,  the  clear  sky  was  blue  and 
transparent.  The  dull  white  crests  of  the  mountains  which 
could  be  seen  behind  the  roofs  looked  as  though  within 
a  short  distance,  and  as  though  they  were  tinged  pink  by 
the  rays  of  the  declining  sun.  Occasionally,  the  distant 
din  of  a  cannon  could  be  heard  from  across  the  river. 


274  THE    COSSACKS 

But  over  the  village  were  borne  the  varied  gay  holiday 
sounds,  mingling  into  one. 

OMnin  had  been  pacing  the  yard  all  the  morning,  in  the 
hope  of  seeing  Maryanka.  But  she  had  gone  to  mass  in 
the  chapel  soon  after  having  dressed  herself ;  then  she  sat 
on  a  mound  with  the  girls,  cracking  seeds,  or  with  her  com- 
panions ran  into  the  house,  casting  merry  and  kind  glances 
upon  the  lodger.  Ol^uin  was  afraid  to  speak  jestingly 
to  her,  especially  before  others.  He  was  waiting  for 
another  such  moment  as  on  the  previous  evening ;  but 
that  moment  did  not  present  itself,  and  he  felt  it  to  be 
above  his  strength  to  remain  any  longer  in  that  uncertain 
situation.  She  again  came  out  into  the  street,  and  a  little 
while  later  he  himself  followed  her,  not  knowing  whither. 
He  passed  by  the  corner  where  she  was  seated,  gleaming 
in  her  blue  velvet  half-coat,  and  with  pain  in  liis  heart  he 
heard  the  girls'  laughter  beliind  him. 

Byel^tski's  cabin  was  near  the  square.  As  he  went 
past  it,  he  heard  Byel^tski's  voice, "  Come  in ! "  and  he 
walked  in. 

After  a  short  chat,  they  sat  down  at  the  window. 
Soon  after  they  were  joined  by  Eroshka  in  a  new  half -coat, 
who  sat  down  on  the  floor  near  them. 

"  That  over  yonder  is  an  aristocratic  group,"  said  Bye- 
l^tski,  pointing  with  his  cigarette  to  a  variegated  crowd  on 
the  corner,  and  smiling.  "  Mine  is  there,  too,  in  a  new 
red  dress,  you  see.  Wliy  don't  the  khorovSds  begin  ? " 
exclaimed  Byel^tski,  looking  out  of  the  window.  "  Just 
wait!  As  soon  as  it  is  dark,^we  will  go  out  ourselves. 
Then  we  will  call  them  to  Ustenka's.  We  must  give 
them  a  party." 

"  I  will  come  to  "LTstenka's,  too,"  said  Olenin,  resolutely. 
"  Will  Maryanka  be  there  ?  " 

"  She  will.  Do  come  ! "  said  Byeli^tski,  not  in  the  least 
surprised.  "  Now,  this  is  really  very  beautiful,"  he  added, 
pointing  to  the  variegated  crowds. 


THE    COSSACKS  275 

"  Yes,  very ! "  Ol^niu  agreed  with  liim,  endeavouring 
to  appear  indifferent.  "  On  such  holidays,"  he  added,  "  I 
am  always  wondering  what  it  is  that  makes  the  people 
suddenly  content  and  gay,  simply  because  there  happens 
to  be  such  and  such  a  date.  The  holiday  is  on  everythiug. 
Their  eyes,  and  faces,  and  voices,  and  motions,  and  clothes, 
and  the  air  and  sun,  —  everything  has  a  holiday  appear- 
ance.    We  are  past  our  holidays." 

"  Yes,"  said  Byeletski,  who  was  not  fond  of  such 
reflections. 

"  Well,  why  don't  you  drink,  old  man  ? "  he  turned  to 
Erdshka. 

Erdshka  winked  to  Oleuin,  as  much  as  to  say,  "Yes, 
your  chum  is  a  proud  fellow ! " 

Byeletski  raised  his  glass. 

"  Allah  hirdy,"  he  said,  and  emptied  it.  {Allah  hirdy 
means  "  God  has  given  ! "  It  is  a  customary  sahitation 
of  the  mountaineers  when  they  drink  together.) 

"  Scm  hul  (May  you  be  well),"  said  Erdshka,  smiling, 
and  gulping  down  his  glass. 

"  You  say  it  is  a  holiday ! "  he  said  to  Oleniu,  rising 
and  looking  through  the  window.  "  This  is  not  much  of 
a  holiday !  You  ought  to  have  seen  them  celeljrate  in 
days  gone  by  !  The  women  used  to  come  out  all  dressed 
up  in  sleeveless  cloaks  embroidered  with  galloons.  The 
breast  would  be  festooned  with  gold  lace  in  two  rows.  On 
their  heads  they  wore  gold-laced  hats.  As  they  walked 
past,  they  raised  such  a  noise !  Each  woman  was  a  prin- 
cess. They  used  to  go  out,  a  whole  bevy  of  them,  and 
sing  songs  enough  to  deafen  you  ;  they  would  celebrate 
all  night  long.  And  the  Cossacks  would  roll  out  kegs 
into  the  yards,  and  sit  down  and  drink  until  daybreak  ; 
or  they  would  take  each  other's  hands  and  start  on  a  rush 
through  the  village.  Whomsoever  they  met  on  their  way, 
they  would  take  with  them,  and  so  they  would  go  from 
house  to  house.     Many  a  time  they  would  celebrate  three 


276  THE    COSSACKS 

days  in  succession.  I  remember  how  father  used  to  come 
home,  red  and  puffed  up,  without  his  cap  or  anything,  and 
throw  himself  down  on  the  bed.  Mother  knew  what  to 
do :  she  would  bring  Mm  some  fresh  caviar  and  red  wine 
to  sober  him  up  with,  and  herself  would  run  through  the 
village  to  look  for  Ms  cap.  Then  he  would  sleep  for  two 
days  at  a  time  !  That  is  the  kind  of  people  they  were  then  ! 
But  how  is  it  to-day  ? " 

"  Well,  how  about  the  girls  in  their  sleeveless  cloaks  ? 
Did  they  keep  by  themselves  ? "  asked  Byel^tski. 

"  Yes,  by  themselves !  Then  the  Cossacks  would  come, 
on  foot  or  on  horseback,  and  '  Let  us  break  up  their 
khorovodsf  they  would  say,  and  the  girls  would  take 
up  oak  cudgels.  In  the  Butter-week  a  young  fellow 
would  come  dashing  along  in  such  a  manner,  and  they 
would  strike  out,  and  beat  his  horse,  and  him.  But 
he  would  break  through  the  wall,  and  carry  off  the 
one  he  liked  best.  And  his  sweetheart  would  love  him 
to  his  heart's  content.  Oh,  what  girls,  what  queenly 
girls  they  were ! " 


XXXVL 

Just  then  two  men  on  horseback  rode  up  from  a  side 
street.  One  of  them  was  Nazarka,  the  other  Lukashka. 
Lukashka  was  sitting  a  little  to  one  side  on  liis  well-fed 
bay  Kabarda  horse,  which  stepped  lightly  on  the  rough 
road,  and  swayed  his  beautiful  head  with  his  shining,  deli- 
cate withers.  The  well-adjusted  gun  in  the  case,  the 
pistol  at  his  back,  and  the  mihtary  mantle  rolled  up  be- 
hind the  saddle,  proved  that  Lukashka  had  not  arrived 
from  a  peaceful,  or  near-by  place.  In  his  sidewise  foppish 
pose,  iu  the  careless  motion  of  his  hand,  with  which  he 
almost  inaudibly  cracked  his  whip  under  the  horse's  belly, 
and  particularly  in  his  glistening  black  eyes,  with  which 
he,  proudly  blinking,  surveyed  everything  about  him, 
were  expressed  the  consciousness  of  strength  and  the  self- 
confidence  of  youth.  "  Have  you  seen  the  dashing  fellow  ? " 
his  eyes,  glancing  around  him,  seemed  to  say.  His 
shapely  horse,  the  harness  and  the  weapons  with  silver 
trimmings,  and  the  handsome  Cossack  himself,  attracted 
the  attention  of  all  the  people  who  were  gathered  in  the 
square.  Nazarka,  spare  and  undersized,  was  dressed  much 
worse  than  Lukashka.  Passing  by  the  old  men,  Lukc4shka 
checked  his  horse,  and  raised  his  white  curly  cap  aliove 
his  clipped  black  hair. 

"  Well,  have  you  driven  off  many  Nogay  horses  ? "  said 
a  haggard  old  man,  with  a  frowning,  gloomy  look. 

"  Have  you  been  counting  them,  grandfather,  that  you 
are  asking  about  it  ?  "  replied  Lukashka,  turning  away. 

277 


278  THE    COSSACKS 

"  You  are  not  doing  well  to  take  the  chap  with  you," 
said  the  old  man,  more  gloomily  still. 

"  See,  the  devil,  he  knows  everything ! "  Luk^shka 
said,  under  his  breath,  and  his  face  assumed  a  careworn 
expression  ;  l)ut  glancing  into  the  corner  where  a  number 
of  Cossack  girls  were  standing,  he  wheeled  his  horse 
around  toward  them. 

"  Good  day,  girls !  "  he  shouted,  in  his  strong,  ringing 
voice,  and  suddenly  checked  in  his  horse.  "  You  have 
grown  old  without  me,  hags  ! "  and  he  burst  out  laughing. 

"  Good  day,  Lukashka,  good  day,  brother  !  "  were  heard 
their  merry  voices.  "  Have  you  brought  much  money 
with  you?  Buy  the  girls  some  sweetmeats!  How  long 
are  you  going  to  stay  ?  We  have  not  seen  you  for  a  long 
time." 

"  Nazarka  and  I  have  run  down  for  the .  night,  to  cele- 
brate," answered  Lukashka,  cracking  his  whip  over  the 
horse,  and  riding  into  the  throng  of  girls. 

"  Why,  Maryanka  has  entirely  forgotten  about  you," 
shrieked  Ustenka,  nudging  Maryanka  with  her  elbow,  and 
bursting  forth  into  a  small  laugh. 

Maryc4nka  moved  back  from  the  horse,  and,  thrusting 
back  her  head,  calmly  gazed  at  the  Cossack  with  her 
large  sparkling  eyes. 

"  You  have  not  been  here  for  a  long  time  !  Stop  crush- 
ing us  with  your  horse  ! "  she  said,  dryly,  and  turned  aw^ay. 

Lukashka  was  evidently  in  a  very  happy  frame  of 
mind.  His  face  shone  with  daring  and  joy.  Maryanka's 
cold  answer  obviously  startled  him.  He  suddenly 
scowled. 

"  Get  up  on  the  stirrups,  and  I  will  take  you  into  the 
mountains,  my  dear ! "  he  suddenly  cried,  as  though  to 
dispel  his  unpleasant  thoughts,  and  began  to  make  all 
kinds  of  daring  evolutions  among  the  girls.  He  bent 
down  to  Maryanka.  "I  will  kiss  you,  I  will  kiss  you 
hard ! " 


THE    COSSACKS  279 

Maryanka's  eyes  and  his  met,  and  she  suddenly  blushed. 
She  stepped  aside. 

"  Stop  it !  You  are  going  to  crush  our  feet ! "  she  said, 
and,  lowering  her  head,  looked  at  her  shapely  feet  that 
were  clad  in  blue  stockings  with  clocks,  and  in  new  red 
shoes,  bordered  with  narrow  silver  galloons. 

Lukashka  turned  to  Ustenka,  and  Maryanka  sat  down 
alongside  a  Cossack  woman  holding  a  babe  in  her  arms. 
The  child  stretched  its  hands  out  toward  Maryanka,  and 
with  its  plump  little  hand  seized  a  thread  of  the  necklace 
which  was  hanging  down  her  blue  half-coat.  Maryanka 
bent  down  to  the  child,  and  looked  askance  at  Lukashka. 
In  the  meantime  Lukashka  fetched  out  from  the  pocket  of 
his  black  half-coat,  beneath  his  mantle,  a  small  bundle  of 
sweetmeats  and  seeds. 

"  I  offer  ^it  to  the  whole  crowd,"  he  said,  handing  the 
bundle  to  Ustenka,  and  smilingly  gazing  at  Maryanka. 

There  was  again  an  expression  of  perplexity  in  the 
girl's  face.  Her  beautiful  eyes  looked  dim,  as  though 
covered  with  a  mist.  She  lowered  the  kerchief  below  her 
hps,  and,  suddenly  burying  her  head  in  the  white  face  of 
the  babe  holding  her  necklace,  began  to  kiss  it  eagerly. 
The  child  pressed  its  tiny  hands  against  the  girl's  swelling 
bosom  and  cried,  opening  its  toothless  mouth. 

"  You  are  choking  the  baby,"  said  the  child's  mother, 
taking  it  away  and  opening  her  half-coat,  in  order  to  give 
it  the  breast.  "  You  had  better  chat  with  the  young 
lad." 

"  As  soon  as  I  have  housed  the  horse,  I  will  be  back 
with  Nazarka,  to  carouse  all  night,"  said  Lukashka,  strik- 
ing the  horse  with  the  whip,  and  riding  away  from  the 
girls. 

Having  turned,  together  with  Nazarka,  into  a  side 
street,  they  rode  up  to  two  cabins  standing  in  a  row. 

"  So  here  we  are,  brother  !  Come  soon  !  "  Lukashka 
cried  to  his  companion,  dismounting  at  the  neighbouring 


280  THE    COSSACKS 

yard,  and  leading  bis  own  horse  through  the  wicker  gate 
of  his  own  courtyard.  "  Good  evening,  Stepka ! "  he 
turned  to  the  dumb  girl,  who  herself  was  dressed  in  holi- 
day attire,  and  was  coming  in  from  the  street  to  take  the 
horse  from  him.  He  made  signs  to  her  to  give  the  horse 
some  hay,  and  not  to  unsaddle  him. 

The  dumb  girl  made  some  inarticulate  sounds,  smacked 
her  lips,  pointed  to  the  horse,  and  kissed  his  nose.  That 
meant  that  she  liked  the  horse,  and  that  it  was  a  fine 
steed. 

"  Good  evening,  mother !  Have  you  not  yet  been  out 
in  the  street  ? "  cried  Lukashka,  holding  his  gun  and 
walking  up  the  steps. 

His  old  mother  opened  the  door  for  him. 

"  Now,  I  did  not  expect  you,  nor  hope  for  you  to  come," 
said  the  old  woman.  "  Kirka  told  me  you  would  not  be 
here." 

"  Let  me  have  a  little  red  wine,  mother  !  Nazarka  will 
come  to  see  me,  and  we  will  drink  in  honour  of  the  hoh- 
day." 

"  Directly,  Lukashka,  directly,"  answered  the  old  woman. 
"  Our  women-folk  are  out  strolling.  I  tliink  our  dumb  girl 
has  gone  out,  too." 

She  picked  up  her  keys  and  hastened  out  into  the 
dairy. 

Having  fitabled  his  horse  and  taken  off  his  gun,  Nazarka 
went  over  to  Lukashka's. 


XXXVIL 

"  To  your  health,"  said  Lukashka,  receiving  from  his 
mother  a  full  cup  of  wine,  and  cautiously  taking  it  over 
to  Nazarka,  who  sat  with  drooping  head. 

"  I  declare,"  said  Nazarka,  "  you  heard  Grandfather 
Clodhopper  ask,  '  Have  you  stolen  many  horses  ? '  He 
evidently  knows." 

"  Wizard  !  "  was  Lukashka's  curt  reply.  "  What  of  it  ? " 
he  added,  shaking  his  head.  "  They  are  now  beyond  the 
river.     Go  and  find  them  ! " 

"  Still  it  is  not  good." 

"  What  is  not  good  ?  Take  some  wine  to  him  to-mor- 
row !  That's  what  we  have  to  do,  and  that  will  be  the 
end  of  it.  Now  for  the  spree !  Drink ! "  shouted  Lu- 
kashka, in  the  same  voice  in  which  old  Eroshka  pro- 
nounced this  word.  "  We  will  go  out  to  celebrate  in  the 
street,  with  the  girls.  You  go  down  and  fetch  some 
honey,  or  I  will  send  the  dumb  girl  for  it.  We  will  cele- 
brate until  morning." 

Nazarka  smiled.  ' 

"  Well,  shall  we  stay  here  long  ? "  he  asked. 

"  Let  us  first  have  a  good  time !  Eun  for  some  brandy  ! 
Here  is  money  ! " 

Nazarka  obediently  ran  over  to  Yamka's. 

Uncle  Eroshka  and  Ergushov,  having  scented  a  spree, 
like  some  birds  of  prey,  fell,  both  drunk,  one  after  the 
other,  into  the  hut. 

"  Let  me  have  another  half-bucket ! "  shouted  Lu- 
kashka to  his  mother,  in  reply  to  their  salutation. 

281 


282  THE    COSSACKS 

"  Now,  tell  me,  you  devil,  where  did  you  steal  ? " 
shouted  Uncle  Eroshka.  "  You  are  a  fine  fellow !  I  love 
you ! " 

"  Yes,  you  love  me,"  answered  Lukashka,  laughing. 
"You  are  carrying  sweetmeats  from  yunkers  to  girls. 
What  do  you  say,  old  man  ? " 

"  It  is  a  lie,  yes,  it  is  a  he !  Oh,  Marka  ! "  The  old 
man  burst  out  laughing.  "  How  that  devil  did  beg  me ! 
*  Go,'  says  he, '  and  try  for  me  ! '  He  offered  me  a  fowling- 
piece.  No,  God  be  with  him !  I  would  have  done  it,  but 
I  was  sorry  for  you.  Now,  tell  me,  where  have  you 
been  ? "     And  the  old  man  started  speaking  in  Tartar. 

Lukashka  answered  him  briskly. 

Ergushov,  who  did  not  understand  Tartar  well,  now 
and  then  threw  in  a  few  words  in  Kussian. 

"  I  say,  he  has  driven  off  some  horses.  I  know  for 
sure,"  he  affirmed. 

"  Gir^yka  and  I  rode  out  together,"  Lukashka  began  to 
tell.  His  using  the  diminutive  Gir^yka  for  Girey-khan 
heightened  liis  dash  to  the  Cossack's  thinking.  "  On  the 
other  side  of  the  river  he  boasted  of  knowing  the  whole 
steppe,  and  he  said  he  would  take  me  there  straight ;  but 
when  we  rode  out  it  was  dark  night,  and  my  Gireyka 
got  all  mixed  up ;  he  began  to  sniff  about,  and  could  not 
make  out  anything.  He  could  not  find  the  native  vil- 
lage, and  that  was  the  end  of  it.  We  had  obviously  gone 
too  much  to  the  right.  I  suppose  we  must  have  wandered 
about  until  midnight.  And  then  luckily  the  dogs  began 
to  howl." 

"  Fools,"  said  Uncle  Eroshka.  "  We  used  to  get  lost 
that  way  in  the  steppe.  The  devil  can  make  them  out ! 
Then  I  would  ride  on  some  mound,  and  howl  like  a  wolf, 
like  this ! "  He  folded  his  hands  over  his  mouth,  and 
howled  hke  a  pack  of  wolves,  in  one  long  note.  "  The 
dogs  would  always  reply.  Go,  tell  the  rest !  Well,  did 
you  find  it  ?  " 


THE   COSSACKS  283 

"  We  at  once  took  to  putting  the  halters  on  the  horses. 
Nogay  women  caught  Nazarka,  bah  ! " 

"  Yes,  they  did,"  said  Nazarka,  who  had  just  returned  ; 
he  spoke  as  though  he  were  offended. 

"  We  rode  ahead,  and  again  Gir^yka  lost  his  way ;  he 
took  us  straight  to  the  sand  dunes.  He  kept  saying  that 
we  were  riding  in  the  direction  of  the  T^rek,  when  we 
were  going  quite  the  opposite  way." 

"  You  ought  to  have  watched  the  stars,"  said  Uncle 
Eroshka. 

"  That's  what  I  say,"  Ergushdv  chimed  in. 

"  But,  I  tell  you  it  was  dreadfully  dark.  I  groped 
about  and  about !  I  put  the  halter  on  one  mare,  and  gave 
my  own  horse  the  rein.  I  thought  he  would  take  me 
the  right  way.  What  do  you  think  he  did  ?  He  just 
snorted,  and  put  his  nose  to  the  ground.  He  dashed  for- 
ward, and  brought  me  straight  to  the  village.  And  in 
the  meantime  it  had  grown  light ;  we  had  barely  time  to 
hide  them  in  the  woods.  Nagim  came  from  across  the 
river,  and  took  them  away." 

Ergushov  shook  his  head.  "  Tliat's  what  I  say  :  it  was 
clever.     How  many  did  you  get  ?  " 

"  They  are  all  here,"  said  Lukashka,  striking  liis  pocket 
with  his  hand. 

Just  then  the  old  woman  entered  the  room. 

"  Drink  ! "  he  shouted. 

"  Once  Girchik  and  I  went  out  late  —  "  began  Eroshka. 

"  Well,  there  will  be  no  end  to  your  story,"  said  Lu- 
kashka. "  But  I  will  go."  Emptying  his  wine-bowl  and 
tightening  his  belt,  Lukashka  went  out  into  the  street. 


XXXVIII. 

It  was  late  when  Lukashka  walked  out  into  the  street. 
The  autumnal  night  was  fresh  and  windless.  The  full 
golden  moon  swam  out  from  behind  the  black  poplars 
that  towered  on  one  side  of  the  square.  A  smoke  rose 
from  the  chimneys  of  the  dairies,  and,  mingling  with  the 
mist,  spread  over  the  village.  Here  and  there  a  hght 
could  be  seen  in  the  windows.  The  odour  of  the  dung 
chips,  of  the  young  wine,  and  of  the  mist  was  borne 
through  the  air.  The  chatting,  the  laughter,  the  songs, 
and  the  cracking  of  seeds  sounded  just  as  mixed,  but 
more  distinct  than  in  the  daytime.  White  kerchiefs  and 
lambskin  caps  could  be  seen  in  small  groups  in  the  dark- 
ness, along  the  fences  and  the  houses. 

In  the  square,  opposite  the  opened  and  illuminated  door 
of  the  shop,  were  assembled  throngs  of  Cossacks  and  girls, 
looking  now  lilack,  now  white,  and  there  could  be  heard 
loud  songs,  laughter,  and  chattering.  Taking  hold  of 
each  other's  hands,  the  girls  were  circUng  around,  tripping 
gracefully  in  the  dusty  square.  A  haggard  and  very 
homely  girl  sang  out : 

"  Out  of  the  forest,  the  little  dark  forest, 
Ay  da  lyuli  I 
Out  of  the  garden,  the  little  green  garden, 
There  walked  out,  came  out  two  fine  fellows, 
Two  fine  fellows,  and  both  of  them  unmarried. 
They  walked  out,  came  out,  and  stood  still, 
They  stood  still,  began  to  quarrel. 
Forth  came  to  them  a  fair  maiden. 
Came  out  to  them,  and  spoke  to  them : 
284 


THE   COSSACKS  285 

<  Now,  to  one  of  you  I  shall  be  given.' 

She  was  given  to  the  fair-faced  lad, 

The  fair-faced  lad,  the  fair-haired  one. 

He  took  her,  took  her  by  her  right  hand, 

He  led  her,  led  her,  all  around  the  circle, 

And  he  boasted  to  all  his  companions  : 
'  Behold,  brothers,  the  wife  I  have  1  '  " 

The  old  women  stood  around  and  listened  to  the  songs. 
The  boys  and  young  girls  flitted  about  in  the  darkness, 
trying  to  catch  each  other.  The  Cossacks  stood  near  by, 
teasing  the  girls  as  they  passed,  and  occasionally  breaking 
through  the  Miorovod,  and  walking  inside  the  circle.  On 
the  dark  side  of  the  door  stood  Byel^tski  and  Ol^nin,  in 
mantles  and  lambskin  caps,  and  conversed  with  each 
other,  not  in  the  Cossack  dialect,  nor  aloud,  but  audibly 
enough,  and  they  were  conscious  of  attracting  attention. 
Plump  Ustenka,  in  red  half-coat,  and  the  majestic  figure 
of  Maryanka,  in  her  new  shirt  and  half-coat,  were  neigh- 
bours in  the  hlwrovod.  Ol^nin  was  discussing  with 
Byel^tski  how  to  get  Maryanka  and  Ustenka  away  from 
the  kliorovod.  Byeletski  surmised  that  Ol^nin  wanted  to 
have  some  amusement,  but  Olt^uin  was  hoping  to  have  his 
lot  decided.  He  wanted  to  see  Maryanka  by  herself  that 
evening,  cost  what  it  might,  to  tell  her  everything,  and  to 
ask  her  whether  she  could  and  would  become  his  wife. 
Although  the  question  had  long  ago  been  answered  in  the 
negative,  he  hoped  that  he  would  be  able  to  tell  her  every- 
thing he  felt,  and  that  she  would  understand  him. 

"  Why  did  you  not  tell  me  before  ? "  said^  Byeletski.  "  I 
would  have  arranged  it  for  you  through  Ustenka.  You 
are  so  strange  ! " 

"  What's  to  be  done  ?  Some  day,  very  soon,  I  will  tell 
you  everything.  But  now,  for  God's  sake,  arrange  it  so 
that  she  will  come  to  Ustenka's." 

"  Very  well.  That  is  easy.  So  the  fair-faced  lad  will 
get  you,  and  not  Lukashka  ? "  said  Byeletski,  for  propri- 


286  THE    COSSACKS 

ety's  sake  turning  first  to  Maryanka  ;  but,  without  waiting 
for  an  answer,  he  went  up  to  Ustenka,  and  began  to  ask 
her  to  bring  Maryanka  with  her.  He  had  hardly  finished 
speaking,  when  the  leader  started  another  song,  and  the 
girls  drew  each  other  around  the  circle. 
They  sang : 

"  Behind  the  garden,  behind  the  garden, 

A  fellow,  her  to  meet, 

Walked  up  and  down  the  street. 

The  first  time  he  walked. 

His  right  hand  did  he  flap ; 

The  second  time  he  walked, 

He  waved  his  beaver  cap ; 

But  the  third  time  he  walked, 

He  stopped  in  front  of  her, 

Stopped  in  front  of  her,  went  over  to  her. 
« I  was  going  to  see  thee. 

Angrily  to  thee  to  talk  : 

Why  didst  thou  not,  dear  maid, 

Come  in  the  garden  for  to  walk? 

Or  art  thou,  my  darling  maid, 

Much  too  proud  for  me  ? 

Afterward,  my  darling  maid, 

Will  I  settle  thee. 

I  will  send  the  wooers  to  thee, 

I  will  sue  for  thee : 

You  will  surely  be  my  wife. 

And  will  weep  through  me.' 

"  Though  I  knew  what  to  say, 

I  did  not  dare  to  answer  '  Nay  I ' 

I  did  not  dare  to  answer  '  Nay !  * 

To  the  garden  I  did  wend. 

And  saluted  there  my  friend. 
'  Here  this  kerchief  take  from  me ! 

'Tis  a  gift,  my  dear,  for  thee. 

Into  thy  white  hands  'tis  laid,  — 

Take  it  from  me,  darling  maid  I 

Into  thy  white  hands,  my  dove, — 

Give,  oh,  give  me,  dear,  thy  love! 

Maid,  I  have  not,  as  I  live, 

Other  gifts  to  thee  to  give. 


THE    COSSACKS  287 

I  shall  give  my  sweetheart  dear 
Nothing  but  this  kerchief  here. 
Take  this  kerchief,  do  take  this,  — 
And  my  dear  five  times  I'll  kiss !  '  " 

Lukashka  and  Nazarka  broke  the  khorovod,  and 
walked  in  among  the  girls.  Lukashka  accompanied  the 
song  with  his  shrill  voice,  and,  waving  his  hands,  walked 
around  inside  the  circle.  "  Let  one  of  you  come  out ! " 
he  said.  The  girls  pushed  Maryanka ;  but  she  would  not 
go.  Amidst  the  song  could  be  heard  a  shrill  laughter, 
blows,  kisses,  and  whispers. 

Passing  by  Ol^nin,  Lukashka  graciously  nodded  his 
head  to  him. 

"  Dmitri  Andr^evich,  did  you  come  here  to  look  at  it  ?  " 
he  said. 

"  Yes,"  Olenin  answered,  resolutely  and  dryly. 

ByeMtski  leaned  down  to  Ustenka's  ear,  and  said 
something  to  her.  She  wanted  to  reply,  but  did  not 
get  a  chance ;  when  she  circled  around  the  second  time, 
she  said : 

"  All  right,  we  will  come  ! " 

"  And  Maryanka,  too  ?  " 

Olenin  bent  down  to  Maryanka.  "  Will  you  come  ? 
Please  do,  if  only  for  a  minute.  I  want  to  talk  with 
you." 

"  If  the  girls  will  go,  I  wiJl." 

"  Will  you  tell  me  what  I  asked  you  about  ?  "  he  asked, 
leaning  over  to  her.     "  You  are  happy  to-day." 

She  began  to  whirl  around.     He  followed  her. 

"  Will  you  tell  me  ?  " 

"  What  ? " 

"  What  I  asked  you  about  two  days  ago,"  said  Olenin, 
bending  down  to  her  ear.     "  Will  you  marry  me  ?  " 

"  I  will  tell  you,"  she  answered.  "  I  will  tell  you  this 
evening." 


288  THE    COSSACKS 

In  the  darkness  her  eyes  flashed  gaily  and  kindly  at 
the  young  man. 

He  continued  to  walk  with  her.  It  was  a  pleasure  for 
him  to  bend  closer  to  her. 

But  Lukashka,  proceeding  with  his  song,  gave  her  hand 
a  mighty  jerk,  and  pulled  her  out  into  the  middle  of  the 
khorovod.  Oleniu  had  just  time  to  say,  "  Do  come  down 
to  Ustenka's ! "  after  which  he  walked  back  to  his  com- 
panion. The  song  was  ended.  Lukashka  wiped  his  lips, 
Maryanka  did  the  same,  and  they  kissed.  "  ^o,Jive  kisses," 
said  Lukashka.  Conversation,  laughter,  running,  took  the 
place  of  the  even  motion  and  the  even  sounds.  Lukashka, 
who  seemed  to  have  had  a  goodly  portion  of  wine,  began 
to  distribute  sweetmeats  to  the  girls. 

"  I  offer  it  to  all,"  he  said,  with  proud,  tragicomical  self- 
satisfaction.  "  And  she  who  will  pass  her  time  with  sol- 
diers, let  her  get  out  of  the  khorovod"  he  suddenly  added, 
looking  maliciously  at  Oleniu. 

The  girls  grabbed  his  sweetmeats,  and,  laughing,  took 
them  away  from  each  other.  Byel^tski  and  Ol^nin  walked 
over  to  one  side. 

Lukashka,  as  though  embarrassed  at  his  liberality,  took 
off  his  cap  and,  wiping  his  brow  with  his  sleeve,  walked 
over  to  Maryanka  and  Ustenka. 

"  Or  art  thou,  my  darling  maid,  much  too  proud  for 
me  ? "  he  repeated  the  words  of  the  song  which  had  just 
been  sung,  and,  turning  to  Ma-ryauka,  "  Much  too  proud  for 
me"  he  repeated,  angrily,  once  more.  "  You  will  surely  he 
my  wife,  and  will  weep  through  me"  he  added,  embracing 
Ustenka  and  Maryanka  at  once. 

Ustenka  tore  herself  loose,  and,  raising  her  hand,  struck 
him  such  a  blow  on  his  back  that  it  made  her  hand  smart, 

"  Well,  are  you  going  to  lead  again  ? "  he  asked. 

"  As  the  girls  wish,"  answered  Ustenka,  "  but  I  am 
going  borne,  and  Maryanka  wanted  to  come  to  our  house, 
too," 


THE    COSSACKS  289 

"  Don't  go  there,  Maryanka  ! "  he  said.  "  We  will  pass 
our  time  together  for  the  last  time.  Go  home,  and  I 
will  follow  you." 

"  What  should  I  do  at  home  ?  This  is  what  the  holi- 
day is  for,  to  have  a  good  time.  I  am  going  to  Ustenka's," 
said  Maryanka. 

"  I  am  going  to  marry  you  soon." 

"  Very  well,"  said  Maryanka.     "  We  will  see  then." 

"  Well,  Avill  you  go  ? "  said  Lukashka,  sternly,  giving 
her  a  tight  hug,  and  kissing  her  cheek. 

"  Stop  I  Don't  bother  me  !  "  And  Maryanka  tore  her- 
self loose  and  walked  away  from  him. 

"  Oh,  girl,  it  will  not  be  right,"  reproachfully  said 
Lukashka,  stopping  and  shaking  his  head.  "  Yoii  'will 
loeep  through  me"  and,  turning  away  from  her,  he  shouted 
to  the  girls,  "  Sing  a  song,  won't  you  ? " 

Maryanka  seemed  to  be  frightened  and  annoyed  by  what 
he  had  said.     She  stopped.     "  What  will  not  be  right  ? " 

"  That." 

"  What  ? " 

"  Your  keeping  company  with  the  soldier,  your  lodger, 
and  because  you  are  not  loving  me  any  more." 

"  If  I  don't  want  to  love  you,  I  won't.  You  are  not  my 
father  or  mother.  What  do  you  want  ?  I  will  love  whom 
I  please." 

"  Well,  well ! "  said  Lukashka.  "  Only  remember  it ! " 
He  went  up  to  the  shop.  "  Girls  ! "  he  cried.  "  Why  are 
you  standing  there  ?  Sing  another  khorovod.  Nazarka, 
go  and  fetch  us  some  wine." 

"  Well,  will  they  come  ? "  01(?nin  asked  Byel(^tski. 

"  They  will,  directly,"  answered  Byel^tski.  "  Come,  we 
must  get  the  entertainment  ready." 


XXXIX. 

It  was  late  in  the  night  when  Ol^nin  left  Byel^tsl<i's 
cabin,  following  directly  after  Maryanka  and  Ustenka. 
The  girl's  white  kerchief  could  be  discerned  in  the  dark 
street.  The  golden  moon  was  descending  toward  the 
steppe.  A  silvery  mist  hovered  over  the  village.  All 
was  quiet ;  there  were  no  lights ;  only  the  steps  of  the 
departing  women  could  be  heard.  01«5nin's  heart  beat 
strongly.  His  flushed  face  was  refreshed  in  the  damp  air. 
He  glanced  at  the  sky,  and  at  the  cabin  from  which  he 
had  come ;  the  light  in  it  went  out,  and  again  he  watched 
the  retiring  shadow  of  the  women.  The  white  kerchief 
disappeared  in  the  mist.  He  felt  terribly  to  be  alone ;  he 
was  so  happy  !  He  sprang  down  from  the  porch  and  ran 
after  the  girls. 

"  Come  now !     They  might  see  you  ! "  said  Ustenka. 

"  That's  all  right ! " 

Oleuin  rushed  up  to  Maryanka  and  embraced  her. 

Maryanka  did  not  struggle. 

"  Have  you  not  kissed  her  enough  ? "  said  Ustenka. 
"  You  will  kiss  her  when  you  get  married,  but  now  you 
must  wait." 

"  Good-bye,  Maryanka  !  To-morrow  I  will  call  on  your 
father,  and  will  tell  him  myself.  Don't  say  anything  to 
him!" 

"  What  should  I  say,  anyway  ? "  answered  IMaryanka. 

The  two  girls  started  to  run.  Oleuin  walked  by  him- 
self, trying  to  recall  everything  tliat  had  taken  place.  He 
had  passed  the  whole  evening  all  alone  with  her,  beliind 

290 


THE    COSSACKS  291 

the  oven.  Ustenka  did  not  leave  the  room  for  a  minute, 
and  passed  her  time  with  the  girls  and  with  Byel^tski. 
Ol^uin  had  been  talking  with  her  in  a  whisper. 

"  Will  you  marry  me  ?  "  he  had  asked  her. 

"  You  will  deceive  me !  You  will  not  take  me,"  she 
had  replied,  gaily  and  calmly. 

"  But  do  you  love  me  ?     Tell  me,  for  God's  sake  ! " 

"  Why  should  I  not  love  you  ?  You  are  not  mis- 
shapen ! "  Maryauka  had  answered,  laughing,  and  pressing 
his  hand  in  her  own  rough  hands.  "  What  white,  awfully 
white,  hands  you  have,  —  just  like  curds,"  she  had  said. 

"  I  am  not  jesting.     Tell  me,  will  you  marry  me  ? " 

"  Why  should  I  not,  if  father  is  willing  ?  " 

"  Remember,  I  shall  lose  my  mind  if  you  deceive  me. 
To-morrow  I  will  tell  your  parents  ;  I  will  come  to  sue  for 
you." 

Maryauka  had  suddenly  burst  out  laughing. 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  you  ? " 

"  Nothing.     It  is  so  funny." 

"  Truly  !  I  will  buy  a  vineyard  and  a  house,  and  will 
enrol  myself  as  a  Cossack  —  " 

"  Look  out !  You  must  not  love  any  other  women  !  I 
am  cross  when  it  comes  to  that  —  " 

Ol^uin  with  delight  repeated  all  these  words  in  his  im- 
agination. At  these  recollections  he  now  felt  an  anguish 
and  now  was  breathless  with  happiness.  He  was  de- 
pressed, because  she  had  been  as  calm  as  ever  while 
speaking  with  him.  This  new  situation  had,  apparently, 
not  agitated  her  in  the  least.  She  did  not  seem  to  believe 
him,  and  was  not  thinking  of  the  future.  It  appeared  to 
him  that  she  was  loving  him  only  in  the  present,  and  that 
there  was  no  future  for  her  with  him.  But  he  was 
happy,  because  her  words  seemed  to  him  to  be  the  truth, 
and  because  she  had  consented  to  be  his. 

"■  Yes,"  he  said  to  himself,  "  only  then  shall  we  under- 
stand each  other  when  she  is  all  mine.     For  such  a  love 


292  THE   COSSACKS 

there  are  no  words,  but  life,  a  whole  life,  is  needed.  To- 
morrow everything  will  be  cleared  up.  I  cannot  live 
thus  any  longer.  To-morrow  I  will  tell  her  father,  Bye- 
letski,  and  the  whole  village  —  " 

Having  previously  passed  two  sleepless  nights,  and 
having  drunk  so  much  in  celebrating  the  holiday,  Lu- 
kashka  was  at  once  taken  off  his  feet,  and  remained  at 
Yamka's,  sleeping. 


XL. 

On  the  following  day  OMnin  awoke  earlier  than  usual. 
In  the  first  moments  of  his  awakening  he  had  a  clear 
recollection  of  what  awaited  him,  and  he  joyfully  remem- 
bered her  kisses,  the  pressure  of  her  rough  hands,  and 
her  words,  "  What  white  hands  you  have  ! "  He  jumped 
up,  and  wanted  to  go  at  once  to  the  ensign  to  sue  for 
Maryanka's  hand.  The  sun  had  not  yet  risen,  and  it 
seemed  to  Ol^nin  that  there  was  an  uncommon  commo- 
tion in  the  street :  people  were  walking,  riding,  and 
talking.  He  threw  over  him  his  mantle  and  sprang  out 
on  the  porch.  The  ensign's  family  was  not  yet  up.  Five 
Cossacks  rode  by,  conversing  noisily  about  something. 
They  were  preceded  by  Lukashka,  who  rode  his  broad- 
shouldered  Kabarda  horse.  The  Cossacks  were  talking 
and  shouting ;  it  was  impossible  to  make  out  what  they 
were  saying. 

"  Ride  out  to  the  upper  post ! "  cried  one. 

"  Saddle,  and  be  up  with  us  at  once ! "  said  another. 

"  It  will  be  nearer  to  go  by  that  gate." 

"  Nonsense  !  "  cried  Lukashka.  "  We  must  go  through 
the  middle  gate." 

"  From  there  it  is  nearer,"  said  one  of  the  Cossacks, 
dust-covered,  and  riding  a  sweaty  horse.  Lukashka's  face 
was  flushed  and  swollen  from  the  carousal  of  the  night 
before ;  his  cap  was  poised  on  the  back  of  his  head.  He 
shouted  in  a  commanding  voice,  as  though  he  were  the 
superior. 

"What    is    up?      Whither   are    you    going?"    asked 

293 


294  THE    COSSACKS 

Ol^nin,  finding  it  difficult  to  direct  the  Cossacks'  attention 
to  himself. 

"  We  are  going  out  to  catch  some  abrdks.  They  are 
sitting  on  the  sand-dunes.  We  shall  ride  out  at  once, 
but  we  have  not  enough  people  with  us." 

The  Cossacks,  continuing  to  shout  and  to  get  ready, 
passed  along  the  street.  It  occurred  to  01(5nin  that  it 
would  not  be  well  if  he  did  not  go  with  them ;  besides, 
he  thought  he  would  return  soon.  He  dressed  himself, 
loaded  his  gun,  jumped  on  his  horse,  which  had  been 
half-saddled  by  Vanyiisha,  and  caught  up  with  the  Cos- 
sacks as  they  were  leaving  the  village.  The  Cossacks 
were  standing  around  in  a  circle,  hurrying  to  be  off ; 
they  were  pouring  some  red  wine  into  a  wooden  bowl 
from  a  cask  that  had  just  been  brought  there,  and,  pass- 
ing it  around,  were  drinking  for  a  propitious  expedition. 
Among  them  was  also  a  young  foppish  ensign,  who 
happened  to  be  in  the  village,  and  who  had  assumed  the 
command  of  the  nine  Cossacks  present.  The  Cossacks 
who  had  gathered  there  were  of  the  rank  and  file,  and 
though  the  ensign  had  the  appearance  of  the  leader  of 
the  expedition,  they  all  obeyed  only  Lukashka. 

The  Cossacks  did  not  pay  the  least  attention  to  Olenin. 
When  they  had  all  mounted  their  horses  and  started  off, 
and  01(5nin,  riding  up  to  the  ensign,  began  to  inquire 
about  the  affair,  the  ensign,  who  usually  was  kindly  dis- 
posed, looked  down  upon  him  from  the  height  of  his 
magnificence.  With  great  difficulty  Olenin  managed  to 
get  some  information  from  him.  A  patrol,  which  had 
been  sent  out  to  look  for  abri^ks,  had  discovered  some 
mountaineers  about  eight  versts  from  the  village,  on  the 
dunes.  The  abr^ks  were  entrenched  in  a  ditch,  and 
threatened  that  they  would  not  be  taken  alive.  The 
under-officer,  who  was  on  the  patrol  with  two  more  Cos- 
sacks, remained  behind  to  keep  watch  on  them,  and  had 
sent  one  of  the  Cossacks  to  the  village  to  get  reenforcement. 


THE    COSSACKS  295 

The  sun  had  just  begun  to  rise.  About  three  versts 
from  the  village,  the  steppe  stretched  out  on  all  sides, 
and  nothing  was  to  be  seen  but  the  monotonous,  melan- 
choly, dry  plain,  with  the  sand  tracked  by  the  cattle,  with 
here  and  there  some  withered  grass,  with  low  reeds  in  the 
lowlands,  with  now  and  then  barely  perceptible  paths, 
and  with  the  Nogay  camps  that  were  visible  somewhere 
in  the  distance  along  the  horizon.  The  absence  of  shade 
and  the  severe  aspect  of  the  locality  were  very  striking. 

The  sun  always  rises  and  sets  red  in  the  steppe.  The 
wind,  when  there  is  any,  moves  whole  mountains  of  sand. 
When  the  air  is  calm,  as  it  was  on  that  morning,  the 
quiet,  which  is  broken  by  neither  motion  nor  sound,  is 
especially  impressive.  On  that  morning  the  steppe  was 
calm  and  gloomy,  even  though  the  sun  was  up  ;  the  steppe 
was  quite  deserted,  and  the  air  was  mellow.  Not  a  breeze 
stirred.  One  could  hear  only  the  tramping  and  snorting 
of  the  horses  ;  but  even  these  sounds  were  feeble,  and  soon 
died  away.  The  Cossacks  generally  rode  in  silence. 
Their  weapons  are  always  so  adjusted  that  they  shall 
neither  clank  nor  clatter.  A  clattering  weapon  is  the 
greatest  disgrace  to  a  Cossack.  Two  Cossacks  from  the 
village  caught  up  with  them  on  the  road,  and  exchanged 
two  or  three  words  with  them. 

Lukashka's  horse  either  stumbled  or  caught  his  foot  in 
the  grass,  and  accelerated  his  steps.  That  is  a  bad  omen 
with  the  Cossacks.  The  Cossacks  looked  around  and 
immediately  turned  back  their  faces,  trying  not  to  pay 
any  attention  to  the  incident,  which  at  that  moment  had 
a  particular  significance.  Lukashka  pulled  the  reins, 
frowned  severely,  clinched  his  teeth,  and  cracked^his  whip 
overhead.  The  good  Kabarda  steed  brought  all  his  legs 
in  motion,  undecided  which  one  to  put  down  first,  and  as 
though  desirous  of  rising  on  wings  ;  but  Lukashka  warmed 
him  up  with  the  whip  over  his  plump  flanks,  then  a  sec- 
ond time,  and  a  third,  —  and  the  Kabarda  steed,  showing 


296  THE    COSSACKS 

his  teeth,  raising  his  tail,  and  rearing  on  his  hind  legs, 
fell  a  few  paces  behind  the  other  horses. 

"  Ah,  that  is  a  fine  steed  ! "  said  the  ensign. 

His  using  the  word  "  steed  "  for  "  horse  "  was  meant  as 
a  special  praise  of  the  animal. 

"  A  lion  of  a  horse,"  affirmed  one  of  the  older  Cos- 
sacks. 

The  Cossacks  rode  on  in  silence,  now  at  a  walk,  now  at 
a  trot,  and  only  that  one  incident  interrupted  for  a  mo- 
ment the  quiet  and  solemnity  of  the  motion. 

In  the  eight  versts  of  their  ride  over  the  steppe,  they 
met  no  signs  of  life  but  a  Nogay  tent  which,  being  placed 
on  an  ox-cart,  was  slowly  moving  about  a  verst  away 
from  them.  It  was  a  Nogay  who  was  moving  with  his 
family  from  one  campiug-ground  to  another.  In  a  low, 
marshy  place  they  met  two  Nogay  women  with  high 
cheek-bones,  who,  with  wicker  baskets  on  their  backs, 
w^ere  collecting  the  dung  of  the  cattle  roving  on  the 
steppe,  for  fuel.  The  ensign,  who  spoke  poor  Kumyk, 
began  to  ask  something  of  the  Nogay  women ;  but  they 
did  not  understand  him,  and  glanced  at  each  other,  obvi- 
ously terrified. 

Lukashka  rode  up,  checked  in  his  horse,  briskly  uttered 
the  customary  salutation,  and  the  women  were  evidently 
reassured,  and  spoke  with  him  as  with  their  own. 

"  At/,  ai/,  kop  ahrek  !  "  they  said,  pitifully,  pointing  in 
the  direction  in  which  the  Cossacks  were  riding.  Ol^nin 
understood  that  they  were  sayiug  "Many  abr^ks!" 

Having  never  taken  part  in  such  an  affair,  and  knowing 
of  it  only  through  Uncle  Erdshka's  recitals,  OMnin  did 
not  wish  to  stay  away  from  the  Cossacks,  but  to  see  it 
all  himself.  He  admired  the  Cossacks,  watched  and 
listened,  and  made  his  observations.  Although  he  had 
taken  with  him  his  sabre  and  a  loaded  gun,  he,  noticing 
that  the  Cossacks  were  keeping  aloof  from  him,  decided 
not  to  take  any  part  in  the  action,  especially  since  his 


THE    COSSACKS  297 

courage,  to  his  thinking,  had  been  proved  at  the  frontier, 
and  chiefly  because  he  was  so  happy  now. 

Suddenly  a  shot  was  heard  in  the  distance. 

The  ensign  was  agitated  and  began  to  give  orders  to 
the  Cossacks,  how  to  separate,  and  from  what  side  to 
approach  them.  But  the  Cossacks  obviously  did  not  pay 
the  least  attention  to  his  commands,  and  listened  only  to 
what  Lukashka  told  them,  and  watched  him  only.  In 
Lukashka's  face  and  whole  figure  was  expressed  calm  and 
solemnity.  He  made  his  steed  go  at  an  amble,  so  that 
the  other  horses,  that  were  going  at  a  walk,  fell  behind, 
and,  blinking,  kept  on  looking  into  the  distance. 

"  Here  is  one  on  horseback,"  he  said,  checking  his 
horse,  and  falling  in  with  the  others. 

OMnin  gazed  sharply,  but  could  not  see  anything.  The 
Cossacks  soon  distinguished  two  horsemen,  and  in  a  quiet 
walk  rode  up  toward  them. 

"  Are  these  the  abr^ks  ?  "  asked  Ol^nin. 

The  Cossacks  did  not  reply  to  this  question,  which  to 
them  was  foolish.  The  abreks  would  have  been  silly 
to  cross  on  this  side  of  the  river  with  their  horses. 

"Brother  Rodka  is  waving  his  hand  to  us,  I  think," 
said  Lukashka,  pointing  to  the  two  men  on  horseback, 
who  now  could  be  clearly  seen.  "  He  is  coming  up  to 
us." 

Indeed,  in  a  few  minutes  it  became  obvious  that  the 
men  on  horseback  were  the  Cossacks  of  the  patrol,  and 
soon  the  under-officer  rode  up  to  Lukashka. 


XLI. 

"  Is  it  far  ? "  was  all  Lukashka  asked. 

At  the  same  time  a  short  report  of  a  gun  was  heard 
withiu  thirty  paces.     The  uuder-ofhcer  smiled  slightly. 

"  Our  Giirka  is  firing  at  them,"  he  said,  nodding  his 
head  in  the  direction  of  the  report. 

Having  ridden  a  few  more  steps,  they  saw  Gurka  sit- 
ting behind  a  sand-hill  and  loading  his  gun.  To  kill 
time,  Gurka  kept  on  shooting  at  the  abreks,  who  were 
sitting  behind  another  sand-hill.  A  bullet  whistled  by 
from  there. 

The  ensign  was  pale  and  confused.  Lukashka  dis- 
mounted from  his  horse,  turned  him  over  to  a  Cossack, 
and  walked  over  to  Giirka.  Olt^nin  did  the  same,  and, 
bending  down,  followed  him.  No  sooner  had  they  reached 
the  Cossack  who  was  firing  than  two  bullets  whistled 
over  their  heads.  Lukashka  smiled  and,  looking  at 
Ol^nin,  crouched  down. 

"  They  will  kill  you  if  you  don't  look  out,  Andr^evich," 
he  said.  "  You  had  better  go  away.  You  have  no  busi- 
ness here." 

But  01(5nin  was  anxious  to  see  the  abreks. 

He  saw  behind  •  a  mound,  about  two  hundred  paces 
from  him,  caps  and  guns.  Suddenly  a  smoke  appeared, 
and  another  bullet  whizzed  by.  The  abreks  were  sitting 
below  the  hill,  in  a  swamp.  Olenin  was  impressed  by 
the  place  where  they  were  entrenched.  The  spot  was 
just  like  the  rest  of  the  steppe,  but  the  fact  that  it  was 

298 


THE    COSSACKS  299 

occupied  by  the  abr^ks  somehow  separated  it  from  every- 
thing else  and  gave  it  a  special  significance.  It  appeared 
to  him  to  be  just  the  place  for  abr^ks  to  occupy.  Lu- 
kashka  returned  to  his  horse,  and  Olenin  followed  him. 

"  We  must  take  the  ox-cart  with  the  hay,"  said  Lu- 
kashka,  "  or  else  they  will  kill  us  all.  There,  beyond 
a  mound,  stands  the  ox-cart  with  the  hay." 

The  ensign  listened  to  him,  and  the  under-officer  agreed 
with  him.  The  hay-wagon  was  brought  up,  and  the  Cos- 
sacks, hiding  behind  it,  began  to  spread  the  hay  as  a 
protection.  Olenin  rode  out  on  a  mound,  from  which 
everything  could  be  seen.  The  hay- wagon  moved  ahead  ; 
the  Cossacks  pressed  closely  together  back  of  it.  The 
Cossacks  moved  forward ;  the  Chechens  —  there  were 
nine  of  them  —  were  sitting  in  a  row,  knee  to  knee,  and 
did  not  shoot. 

Everything  was  quiet.  Suddenly  on  the  side  of  the 
Chechens  rang  out  the  strange  sounds  of  a  weird  song, 
resembling  the  "  Ay  dalcday "  of  Uncle  Eroshka.  The 
Chechens  knew  that  there  was  no  escape  for  them,  and, 
to  free  themselves  from  the  temptation  of  running  away, 
they  tied  themselves  together  with  leather  straps,  knee 
to  knee,  got  their  guns  ready,  and  tuned  the  death-song. 

The  Cossacks  came  nearer  and  nearer  to  them  with  the 
hay-wagon,  and  Olenin  expected  to  hear  a  fusilade  any 
moment ;  but  the  calm  was  broken  only  by  the  weird 
,  song  of  the  abr^ks.  Suddenly  the  song  was  ended  ;  there 
was  heard  a  short  report ;  a  bullet  struck  against  the  cart- 
chain  ;  Chechen  curses  and  shouts  rang  out.  One  shot 
after  another  was  fired,  and  one  bullet  after  another  struck 
the  wagon.  The  Cossacks  did  not  shoot,  though  they 
were  within  five  steps  of  the  Chechens. 

Another  moment  passed,  and  the  Cossacks,  shouting 
the  war-cry,  rushed  out  on  both  sides  of  the  wagon.  Lu- 
kashka  was  in  the  lead.  01(5nin  heard  but  a  few  shots 
fired,  then   crying  and  groaning.     He    saw^   smoke,  and 


300  THE    COSSACKS 

blood,  as  he  thought.  He  left  his  horse,  and  beside  him- 
self rushed  up  to  the  Cossacks.  Terror  shrouded  his 
eyes.  He  could  not  make  out  anything,  but  he  under- 
stood that  everything  was  ended.  Lukashka,  pale  as 
a  sheet,  was  holding  a  Chechen  by  his  arm,  and  crying, 
"  Don't  kill  him !  I  will  take  him  alive ! "  The  Chechen 
was  the  same  red-haired  fellow,  the  brother  of  the  dead 
abr^k,  who  had  come  to  get  his  body.  Lukashka  was 
twisting  his  arms.  Suddenly  the  abrek  tore  himself  loose 
and  shot  at  him  with  his  pistol.  Lukashka.  staggered  and 
fell.  On  his  abdomen  appeared  some  blood.  He  jumped 
up,  but  again  fell  down,  cursing  in  Kussian  and  in  Tartar. 
The  blood  on  him  and  under  him  grew  ever  more  abundant. 
The  Cossacks  walked  over  to  him,  and  began  to  take  off 
his  belt.  One  of  them,  Nazarka,  before  helping  him,  was 
for  quite  awhile  unable  to  sheathe  liis  sabre,  as  he  put  it 
in  the  wrong  way.     The  blade  was  all  bloody. 

The  Chechens,  with  their  hair  dyed  red,  and  clipped 
moustaches,  lay  dead  and  hacked  to  pieces.  Only  one, 
the  same  that  had  shot  Lukashka,  lay  alive,  though 
severely  wounded.  Like  a  wounded  hawk,  all  drenched 
with  blood  (blood  was  flowing  from  his  right  eye),  clinch- 
ing his  teeth,  pale  and  gloomy,  surveying  everything  with 
his  large  excited  eyes,  he  sat  on  his  heels,  holding  a  dag- 
ger, and  ready  to  defend  himself  again.  The  ensign 
walked  over  to  him,  and,  pretending  to  make  a  circuit 
round  him,  with  a  rapid  motion  fired  his  pistol  at  his  ear. 
The  Chechen  darted  forward,  but  he  fell  before  he  could 
rise. 

The  Cossacks,  out  of  breath,  pulled  the  dead  to  one 
side,  and  took  off  their  weapons.  Each  of  these  red- 
haired  Chech(5ns  was  a  man ;  each  had  his  own  peculiar 
features.  Lukashka  was  carried  to  the  cart.  He  kept 
swearing  in  Kussian  and  in  Tartar. 

"  You  are  lying,  I  will  choke  you  with  my  hands ! 
You  will  not  get  away  from  my  hands !     Anna  sent !  " 


THE    COSSACKS  301 

he  cried,  making  an  effort  to  rush  forward.  Soon  he 
grew  silent  from  loss  of  blood. 

Ol^nin  rode  home.  In  the  evening  he  was  told  that 
Lukashka  was  mortally  wounded,  but  that  a  Tartar  from 
across  the  river  had  undertaken  to  cure  him. 

The  bodies  were  all  dragged  to  the  village  office. 
Women  and  children  ran  there  to  see  them. 

Ol^nin  returned  home  at  dusk,  and  could  not  collect 
himself  for  a  long  time  from  the  horrors  which  he  had 
witnessed.  In  the  evening  the  recollections  of  the  day 
again  burst  upon  him.  Maryanka  was  going  to  and  fro 
from  the  house  to  the  shed,  attending  to  her  household 
duties.  Her  mother  had  gone  to  the  vineyard.  Her 
father  was  at  the  office.  Ol^nin  did  not  wait  for  her  to 
get  through  with  her  work,  and  walked  up  to  her.  She 
was  in  the  house,  standing  with  her  back  to  him.  Ol^nin 
thought  she  was  embarrassed. 

"  Maryanka,"  he  said,  "  oh,  Maryanka  !  May  I  come 
in?" 

Suddenly  she  turned  around.  In  her  eyes  stood  barely 
perceptible  tears.  In  her  face  was  fair  sorrow.  She 
looked  at  him  silently  and  majestically. 

Ol^nin  repeated : 

"  Maryanka  !     I  have  come  —  " 

"  Leave  me,"  she  said.  Her  face  did  not  change,  but 
tears  gushed  from  her  eyes. 

"  What  is  it  about  ?     What  is  the  matter  ? " 

"  What  ? "  she  repeated,  in  a  coarse  and  harsh  voice. 
"  Cossacks  have  been  killed,  that  is  the  matter." 

"  Lukashka  ? "  asked  01(3nin. 

"  Go  away  !     What  do  you  want  ? " 

"  Maryanka  ! "  said  Ol^nin,  walking  over  to  her. 

"  Never  will  you  get  anything  from  me." 

"  Maryanka,  don't  say  that,"  Olenin  implored  her. 

"  Go  away  !  I  am  tired  of  you  !  "  cried  the  girl,  stamp- 
ing her  foot,  and  moving  toward  him  with  a  threatening 


302  THE    COSSACKS 

mien.  Her  face  expressed  such  disgust,  contempt,  and 
fury,  that  Oli^niu  suddenly  understood  that  he  had 
nothing  to  hope  for,  and  that  what  he  had  formerly 
thought  of  the  unapproachabihty  of  this  woman  was  an 
undeniable  fact. 

Ol^nin  did  not  say  anything,  and  ran  out  of  the  room. 


XLII. 

After  returning  home,  he  lay  for  two  hours  motion, 
less  on  his  bed  ;  then  he  went  to  the  captain,  and  asked  for 
leave  to  visit  the  staff.  He  did  not  bid  any  one  farewell, 
but  sent  his  rent  to  the  ensign  through  Vauyusha,  and 
got  ready  to  journey  to  the  fortress  where  the  regiment 
was  stationed.  Only  Uncle  Eroshka  saw  him  off.  They 
drank  together  a  glass,  and  then  another,  and  then  again. 
Just  as  upon  his  departure  from  Moscow,  the  stage  three- 
span  stood  at  the  door.  But  01(^niu  did  not  cast  his 
accounts  with  himself,  as  then,  and  did  not  say  to  him- 
self that  all  he  had  been  thinking  and  doing  here  was 
not  that.  He  did  not  promise  himself  a  new  life.  He 
loved  Maryanka  more  than  ever,  and  he  knew  that 
he  could  never  be  loved  by  her. 

"  Well,  good-bye,  my  father  ! "  said  Uncle  Erdshka.  "  If 
you  ever  take  part  in  a  campaign,  be  wiser,  and  listen 
to  the  advice  of  an  old  man.  If  you  are  out  on  an  incur- 
sion, or  wherever  else  it  may  be,  —  I  am  an  old  wolf, 
and  have  seen  everything,  —  and  there  is  some  firing, 
don't  go  into  a  crowd  where  there  are  many  people 
together.  For  it  is  the  habit  of  you  people,  whenever 
you  get  scared,  to  jam  together  in  a  throng,  thinking  that 
it  is  merrier  where  there  are  a  lot  of  you  ;  but  it  is  worse  : 
the  enemy  always  aims  into  a  crowd,  I  always  used  to 
keep  away  from  people,  and  to  walk  by  myself,  and 
so  I  have  never  been  wounded.  And  I  have  seen  a 
great  deal  in  my  hfetime." 

"  But  you  have  a  bullet  in  your  back ! "  said  Vanyiisha, 
who  was  cleaning  up  the  room. 

303 


304  THE    COSSACKS 

"  The  Cossacks  did  that  while  on  a  spree,"  replied 
Eroshka. 

"  The  Cossacks  ?     How  so  ? "  asked  Ol^nin. 

"  Like  this !  They  were  drinking.  Vanka  Sitkin,  a 
Cossack,  was  pretty  drunk,  and  he  took  out  his  pistol, 
and  bang !  sent  a  bullet  right  into  this  spot." 

"  Did  it  pain  you  ? "  asked  Ol^nin.  "  Vanyiisha,  will 
you  be  done  soon  ? "  he  added. 

"  Oh,  in  what  a  hurry  you  are !  Let  me  tell  you  — 
He  fired  off;  the  bullet  did  not  break  my  bone,  but 
stopped  right  here.  And  so  I  told  him :  '  You  have 
killed  me,  brother !  Eh  !  What  have  you  done  to  me  ? 
I  will  not  let  you  off  so  easily.  You  will  have  to  treat 
me  to  a  bucket  of  wine.' " 

"  Well,  did  it  hurt  you  ?  "  again  asked  Ol^nin,  scarcely 
hearing  his  story. 

"  Let  me  tell  it  to  you.  He  put  up  the  bucket.  We 
drank  together.  And  the  blood  was  running  all  the  time. 
I  soiled  the  whole  room  with  my  blood.  Then  Grand- 
father Clodhopper  said  :  '  The  fellow  will  surely  die.  Let 
us  have  another  stoup  of  sweet  wine,  or  else  we  will  have 
you  in  court.'  They  brought  some  more.  And  we  filled 
ourselves  up  —  " 

"  Well,  did  it  hurt  you  ?  "  again  asked  Olenin. 

"  Did  it  hurt  ?  Don't  interrupt  me  !  I  don't  like  that. 
Let  me  tell  you  the  rest.  We  drank,  and  drank,  and 
celebrated  until  morning,  and  I  fell  asleep  on  the  oven, 
drunk.  When  I  awoke  in  the  morning,  I  could  not 
unbend  myself." 

"  Was  it  very  painful  ? "  repeated  01(^nin,  thinking  that 
now,  at  last,  he  would  got  an  answer  to  his  question. 

"  Did  I  tell  you  it  hurt  ?  It  did  not  hurt,  only  I  could 
not  bend,  nor  walk." 

"  Well,  and  it  healed  up  ? "  said  Olenin,  not  even 
laughing,  his  heart  was  so  heavy. 

"  Yes,  but  the  bullet  is   still   there.     Just  feel  it ! " 


THE    COSSACKS  305 

And  he  rolled  up  his  shirt  and  showed  his  broad  back, 
where  a  bullet  was  loosely  encased  near  the  bone. 

"  Do  you  see  how  it  rolls  around  ? "  he  said,  evidently 
pleased  with  the  bullet  as  with  a  toy.  "  Now  it  has 
rolled  over  to  the  back." 

"  Well,  will  Lukashka  live  ? "  asked  01(^nin. 

"  God  knows !  There  is  no  doctor  here.  They  have 
gone  for  one." 

"  Where  will  they  get  one  ?  At  Grdznaya  ? "  asked 
Olfoin. 

"  No,  my  father,  I  would  long  ago  have  cut  the  throats 
of  your  Eussiau  doctors,  if  I  were  the  Tsid.  All  they 
know  is  to  cut.  They  have  spoiled  our  Cossack  Baklashev, 
by  taking  off  his  leg.  Consequently  they  are  fools. 
What  is  Baklashev  good  for  now  ?  No,  my  father,  in 
the  mountains  there  are  genuine  doctors.  During  an  ex- 
pedition ray  friend  Vorchik  was  wounded  right  here, 
in  the  chest,  and  your  doctors  gave  him  up,  but  Saib 
came  down  from  the  mountains  and  cured  him.  They 
know  all  kinds  of  herbs,  my  father." 

"  Stop  talking  nonsense,"  said  Olenin.  "  I  had  better 
send  the  surgeon  from  the  staff." 

"  Nonsense  ? "  the  old  man  mimicked  him.  "  Fool, 
fool !  Nonsense  !  Send  the  surgeon  !  If  your  surgeons 
knew  how  to  cure,  the  Cossacks  and  the  Chechens  would 
go  to  get  cured  by  them,  whereas,  your  officers  and  colo- 
nels send  for  the  doctors  from  tlie  mountains.  It  is 
false,  all  false,  with  you  people." 

Olenin  did  not  try  to  retort.  He  was  too  much  of  the 
opinion  that  everything  was  false  in  the  world  in  which 
he  used  to  live,  and  to  which  he  was  now  going  to 
return. 

"  How  about  Lukashka  ?  Have  you  seen  him  ? "  he 
asked. 

"  He  is  lying  like  one  dead.  He  neither  eats  nor 
drinks.     He  won't  stand  anything  but  brandy.     Well,  he 


306  THE    COSSACKS 

is  drinking  brandy,  —  that's  all  right.     I  am  sorry  for 
the  fellow.     He  was  a  good  fellow,  a  brave,  just  like  my- 
self.    I  was  once  on  the  point  of  dying,  and  the  women 
were  howling,  and  howling.     My  head  was  hot.     They 
already  accounted  me  a  saint.     And  so  I  was  lying,  and 
right  above  me,  on  the  oven,  tiny  little  drummers  were 
sounding  the  reveille.     I  shouted  to  them,  but  they  only 
drummed  so  much  the  harder."     The  old  man  laughed. 
"  The  women  brought  the  chanter  to  me ;  they  wanted  to 
bury  me,  and  so  they  said :  '  He  has  led  a  worldly  life, 
has  kept  company   with   women,  has  ruined   souls,  has 
eaten  meat  on  fast-days,  has  played  the  balalayka.     Ee- 
pent,'  they  said.     And  so  I   began  to  repent.     'I   have 
sinned,'  says  I.     No  matter  what  the  pope   said,  I .  re- 
peated, '  I  have  sinned.'     He  began  to  ask  me  about  the 
balalayka.     '  Where  is  it,  that  accursed  thing  ? '  says  he. 
'  Let  me  have  it,  so  I  may  smash  it.'     And  I  said  I  did 
not  have  it;  but  I  had  myself  hidden  it  away  in    the 
dairy  in  a  net.     I  knew  they  would   not  find  it.     And 
they  gave  me  up.     And  I  came  to.     And  again  I  started 
to  scrape  the  balalayka  —     So,  what  was  I  saying  ? "  he 
continued.      "  Take     my    advice,   and    keep   away    from 
crowds,  or  you  will  be  killed.     I  am  sorry  for  you,  truly, 
I  am.     You  are  a  toper,  I  like  you.     The  rest  of  you  fel- 
lows are  fond  of  riding  out  to  the  mounds.     There  was 
one  of  them  living  here.     He  had  come  from  Eussia,  and 
he  had  such  a  passion  for  mounds!     Every  time  he  saw 
a  mound,  he  rode  out  to  it.     Once  he  galloped  off.     He 
galloped,  and  was  so  happy  about  it !     And  a  Chechen 
shot  at  him,  and  killed  him.     The  Chech(^ns  are  such  fine 
sliots  with  forked  supports.     Tliere  are  better  shots  than 
I  am.     I  do  not  like  to  see  anybody  killed  in  such  a  bad 
manner.     I  used  to  look  at  your   soldiers,  and  wonder. 
What  stupidity !     My  darlings  walk  together  in  a  mass, 
and,  besides,  wear  such  red  collars.     How  can  one  help 
hitting   them?      They   kill    one  man,  and  while  he   is 


THE    COSSACKS  307 

dragged  off,  another  man  takes  his  place.  What  stupid- 
ity ! "  repeated  the  old  man,  shaking  his  head.  "  They 
ought  to  scatter,  and  walk  one  by  one.  And  they  ought 
to  walk  as  if  nothing  were  the  matter.  Then  they  would 
not  find  you  out.     That's  the  way  it  ought  to  be  done." 

"  Well,  good-bye,  uncle  !  If  God  will  grant  it,  we  shall 
see  each  other  again,"  said  Olenin,  rising  and  walking  out 
to  the  vestibule. 

The  old  man  was  sitting  on  the  floor,  and  did  not  get 
up. 

"  Is  this  the  way  to  say  farewell  ?  Fool,  fool ! "  he 
said.  "  What  .people  they  are  now  !  He  has  kept  com- 
pany with  me,  a  whole  year  he  has  kept  company,  and 
now,  '  Good-bye,'  and  off  he  goes.  Don't  you  know,  I  love 
you,  and  am  sorry  for  you  ?  You  are  so  gloomy,  so 
lonely,  such  a  lonely  man !  You  are  so  shy  !  Many  a 
time,  when  I  could  not  sleep,  have  I  thought  of  you,  and 
felt  sorry  for  you.     As  the  song  says : 

"  <  Not  so  easy,  my  dear  brother, 
'Tis  in  foreign  lands  to  live.' 

And  so  it  is  with  you." 

"  Well,  good-bye,"  again  said  Olenin. 

The  old  man  got  up  and  gave  him  his  hand.  OMnin 
pressed  it,  and  wanted  to  leave. 

"  Your  mug,  your  mug  !     Let  me  have  it ! " 

The  old  man  took  him  by  the  head  with  both  his  fat 
hands,  kissed  him  three  times  with  his  w^et  moustache 
and  hps,  and  began  to  weep. 

"  I  love  you,  good-bye  !  " 

Olenin  seated  himself  in  the  vehicle. 

"  And  so  you  are  going !  Give  me,  at  least,  a  memento, 
my  father !  Give  me  a  gun.  What  do  you  want  two 
for  ? "  said  the  old  man,  sobbing,  and  shedding  real  tears. 

Olenin  got  the  gun  and  gave  it  to  him. 


308  THE    COSSACKS 

"  What  a  lot  of  things  you  have  given  that  old  fellow ! " 
grumbled  Vauyvisha,  "  and  it  is  still  too  little  for  him ! 
Old  beggar  !  What  unreliable  people  !  "  he  said,  wrapping 
himself  up  in  his  overcoat,  and  taking  his  seat  on  the 
box. 

"  Shut  up,  swine  ! "  cried  the  old  man,  laughing.  "  I 
declare,  he  is  stingy  ! " 

Maryanka  came  out  of  the  shed,  glanced  indifferently 
at  the  trdyka,  and,  bowing,  walked  into  the  cabin. 

"  La  fille  !  "  said  Vanyusha,  winking,  and  giving  a  dull 
laugh. 

"  Go,"  Ol^nin  cried,  angrily. 

"  Good-bye,  father  !  Good-bye,  I  will  remember  you  !  " 
exclaimed  Eroshka. 

Olt^nin  looked  back.  Uncle  Eroshka  was  talking  to 
Maryanka,  apparently  about  his  own  affairs,  and  neither 
the  old  man  nor  the  girl  was  looking  at  him. 


SEVASTOPOL 

In  December,  1854,  and  in  May  and  August,  1855 
1854-1856 


SEVASTOPOL 

In  December,   1854 


The  dawn  is  just  beginning  to  crimson  the  sky  above 
Mount  Sapiin.  The  dark  blue  surface  of  the  sea  has  cast 
off  the  nocturnal  darkness,  and  is  waiting  for  the  first  ray, 
in  order  to  gleam  forth  in  gay  splendour.  From  the  bay 
is  wafted  cold  and  mist ;  there  is  no  snow,  and  every- 
thing is  black,  but  the  sharp  morning  frost  pinches  the 
face  and  crackles  underfoot,  and  the  distant,  ceaseless 
roar  of  the  sea,  now  and  then  interrupted  by  the  booming 
of  guns  at  Sevastopol,  alone  breaks  the  morning  quiet. 
The  ships  are  dark  ;  eight  bells  are  sounding. 

On  the  Northern  side  the  activity  of  the  day  slowly  be- 
gins to  replace  the  calm  of  the  night.  Here  passes  a 
patrol  to  relieve  some  sentinels,  clanking  their  guns ; 
there  a  surgeon  is  already  hastening  to  the  hospital ; 
there  a  soldier  has  crept  out  of  his  earth  hut  and  is  wash- 
ing his  sunburnt  face  with  ice-crusted  water,  and,  turning 
to  the  ruddy  east,  and  swiftly  crossing  himself,  says  his 
prayers ;  here  a  tall,  heavy  camel  cart,  with  creaking 
wheels,  is  creeping  to  the  cemetery  to  bury  the  blood- 
stained dead,  with  whom  it  is  loaded  almost  to  the  top. 

You  walk  down  to  the  harbour.  You  are  struck  by  a 
peculiar   odour  of  coal,  dung,   dampness,  and    beef.     A 

311 


312  SEVASTOPOL 

thousand  different  objects,  wood,  meat,  gabions,  flour,  iron, 
are  lying  in  heaps  on  the  quay.  Soldiers  of  various  regi- 
ments, with  bags  and  guns,  without  bags  and  without 
guns,  are  crowding  here,  smoking,  swearing,  dragging 
heavy  burdens  to  a  steamboat  which,  putting  smoke,  is 
lying  near  the  landing.  Private  two-oared  boats,  filled 
with  all  kinds  of  people,  —  soldiers,  sailors,  merchants, 
women,  —  are  landing  or  leaving  the  quay. 

"  To  the  Grafskaya,  your  Honour  ?  Please  ! "  Two  or 
three  former  sailors,  getting  out  of  their  boats,  are  offer- 
ing you  their  services. 

You  choose  the  one  who  is  nearest  to  you,  step  across 
the  half-decayed  carcass  of  a  chestnut  horse,  which  is 
lying  in  the  mud  near  the  boat,  and  walk  over  to  the 
stern.  You  push  off  from  the  shore.  All  around  you 
is  the  sea,  glittering  in  the  morning  sun ;  before  you  is 
an  old  sailor  in  a  camel's-hair  overcoat,  and  a  fair-haired 
young  boy,  intently  pulhng  at  the  oar  in  silence.  You 
look  at  the  (uitstretched  masses  of  the  ships  scattered  far 
and  wide  over  the  bay ;  at  the  diminutive  black  dots  of 
the  sloops  moving  on  the  brilhant  azure  of  the  sea  ;  at  the 
beautiful,  bright  structures  of  the  city  that  may  be  dis- 
cerned on  the  other  side,  tinged  by  the  purple  beams 
of  the  morning  sun  ;  at  the  foaming  white  line  of  the 
mole ;  at  the  submerged  ships  from  which  tower  mourn- 
fully the  black  tops  of  masts ;  at  the  far-off  hostile  fleet 
shimmering  on  the  crystal  horizon  of  the  ocean ;  at  the 
frothing  streaks,  in  which  leap  the  briny  bubbles  raised 
by  the  oars ;  you  hear  the  even  sound  of  voices  which 
reaches  you  over  the  water,  and  the  majestic  sounds  of 
firing  which,  so  you  think,  is  growing  louder  in  Sevas- 
topol. 

At  the  thought  of  being  in  Sevastopol,  you  are  invol- 
untarily stirred  by  a  certain  feeling  of  courage  and  pride, 
and  your  blood  begins  to  course  more  rapidly  in  your 
veias.         -_  . 


SEVASTOPOL  313 

"  Your  Honour !  Make  straight  for  Kistentin,"  ^  the 
old  sailor  tells  you,  turning  back  in  order  to  verify  the 
direction  which  you  are  giving  to  the  boat  on  the  right  of 
the  rudder. 

"  She  has  still  all  her  guns,"  remarks  the  fair-haired  lad, 
passing  by  the  vessel,  and  scrutinizing  it. 

"  Why,  of  course.  She  is  a  new  boat :  Kornilov  has 
been  living  on  her,"  remarked  the  old  man,  also  gazing  at 
the  vessel, 

"  I  declare,  it  did  burst ! "  says  the  boy,  gazing,  after  a 
prolonged  silence,  at  the  white  cloud  of  a  dispersing 
smoke,  which  had  suddenly  appeared  high  over  the  south- 
ern bay,  and  which  is  accompanied  by  the  sharp  sound  of 
an  exploding  bomb. 

"He  is  firing  to-day  from  the  new  battery,"  adds  the 
old  man,  with  equanimity  spitting  on  his  hand.  "  Come 
now,  give  w^ay,  Mishka,  let  us  overtake  the  long-boat ! " 
And  your  boat  moves  more  rapidly  ahead  over  the  broadly 
billowing  bay,  really  overtakes  the  heavy  long-boat  filled 
with  some  kind  of  bags,  and  unevenly  propelled  by 
awkward  soldiers,  and  lands,  among  numerous  craft  along- 
side the  shore,  at  the  Grafskaya  quay. 

On  the  shore  move  about  noisily  groups  of  soldiers  in 
gray,  sailors  in  black,  and  women  in  variegated  attires. 
Women  are  selling  rolls ;  Russian  peasants  with  samovars 
cry,  "  Hot  sbiten  ;  "  ^  and  right  here  on  the  very  first  steps 
lie  in  disorder  rusty  shells,  bombs,  canister-shot,  and  cast- 
iron  cannon  of  various  calibres.  A  little  farther  off  is  a 
large  square,  where  are  scattered  huge  beams,  gun-car- 
riages, sleeping  soldiers ;  here  stand  horses,  carts,  green 
ordnance  and  caissons,  and  infantry  scaffolding ;  there 
move  about  soldiers,  sailors,  officers,  women,  children,  and 
merchants ;    there   carts  with  hay,  with  bags,  and  with 

1  The  steamer  Constantine. 

2  A  driuk  composed  of  hot  water  and  honey.  Sometimes  capsicum 
and  other  spices  ai-e  added. 


314  '  SEVASTOPOL 

barrels  drive  around,  and  occasionally  a  Cossack  passes  by, 
and  an  officer  ou  horseback  or  a  general  in  a  vehicle,  pass 

by. 

On  the  right,  the  street  is  shut  off  by  a  barricade,  in  the 
embrasures  of  which  are  placed  some  small  cannon,  and 
near  them  sits  a  sailor,  smoking  his  pipe.  Ou  the  left  is 
a  beautiful  house  with  Roman  figures  on  the  pediment, 
and  beneath  it  stand  soldiers  and  blood-stained  litters, — 
everywhere  you  see  the  unpleasant  signs  of  a  military 
camp. 

Your  first  impression  is  necessarily  most  disagreeable : 
the  strange  mixture  of  camp  and  city  life,  of  the  beautiful 
town  and  the  dirty  bivouac,  is  not  only  not  beautiful,  but 
even  seems  hke  vile  disorder  ;  and  you  imagine  that  every- 
body is  frightened,  that  people  are  bustling  around,  not 
knowing  what  to  do.  But  look  more  closely  into  the 
faces  of  the  men  who  are  moving  about,  and  you  will  get 
a  different  impression.  Look,  for  example,  at  this  soldier 
of  the  baggage-train,  who  is  taking  a  chestnut  troyka 
to  the  water,  and  who  is  calmly  mumblhig  something  to 
himself ;  it  is  evident  that  he  will  not  lose  his  way  in  this 
motley  crowd,  which,  indeed,  does  not  exist  for  him,  and 
that  he  is  executing  his  work,  whatever  it  may  be,  —  to 
water  horses  or  drag  ordnance,  —  as  calmly,  and  with  the 
same  self-confidence  and  indifference,  as  though  all  this 
were  taking  place  at  Tula  or  at  Saransk.  The  same 
expression  you  read  in  the  countenance  of  this  officer,  who 
passes  by  you  in  immaculately  white  gloves,  and  in  the 
countenance  of  the  sailor,  who  is  smoking  while  sitting  ou 
the  barricade,  and  in  the  countenances  of  the  busy  soldiers, 
who  with  the  litters  are  waiting  at  the  steps  of  the 
former  Assembly  House,  and  in  the  countenance  of  this 
maiden,  who,  fearing  to  soil  her  pink  dress,  trips  from 
stone  to  stone  across  the  street. 

Yes,  you  will  certainly  be  disappointed  when  you  first 
enter  Sevastopol.     In  vain  will  you  look  in  one  single 


,  SEVASTOPOL  315 

face  for  traces  of  flurry  and  confusion,  or  even  of  enthusi- 
asm, readiness  to  die,  and  determination.  There  is  noth- 
ing of  that.  You  see  every-day  people  quietly  occupied 
with  every-day  aflairs,  so  that  you  will,  no  doubt,  reproach 
yourself  for  your  superabundant  transport,  and  will  be 
incHned  to  question  the  justness  of  the  conception  which 
you  have  formed  about  the  heroism  of  the  defenders 
of  Sevastopol,  from  stories  and  from  description,  and 
from  the  aspect  of  things  and  from  the  sounds  on  the 
Northern  side.  But,  before  expressing  your  doubt,  walk 
down  to  the  bastions,  take  a  look  at  the  defenders  of 
Sevastopol  in  the  very  place  of  the  defence,  or,  still  better, 
walk  into  the  house  opposite,  which  used  to  be  the 
Assembly  House  of  the  Sevastopol  nobiHty,  and  at  the 
entrance  of  which  the  soldiers  are  f^tanding  with  the  lit- 
ters, —  and  you  will  there  see  the  defenders  of  Sevastopol ; 
you  will  there  see  terrible  and  sad,  great  and  amusing, 
but  surprising  and  exalting  spectacles. 

You  walk  into  the  great  assembly  hall.  You  barely 
open  the  door,  and  you  are  at  once  impressed  by  the  sight 
and  odour  of  forty  or  fifty  patients  who  are  severely 
wounded  or  have  suffered  amputation,  some  on  cots,  but 
most  on  the  floor.  Do  not  trust  your  feeling  which  holds 
you  back  on  the  threshold  of  the  hall,  —  it  is  a  wrong 
feeling ;  walk  on,  and  have  no  shame,  as  though  you  had 
come  to  look  at  the  suff"erers.  Do  not  be  ashamed  to 
walk  up  and  talk  to  them :  the  unfortunate  like  to  see  a 
sympathetic  human  face,  like  to  tell  of  their  sufferings, 
and  to  hear  the  words  of  love  and  sympathy.  You  pass 
along  the  aisle  between  the  beds,  and  select  a  less  severe 
and  agonized  face,  and  you  take  heart  and  walk  over  to 
talk  with  him. 

"  On  what  part  of  the  body  are  you  wounded  ? "  you 
irresolutely  and  timidly  ask  an  old,  haggard  soldier,  who, 
sitting  up  on  his  cot,  follows  you  with  his  good-natured 
glance,  and  almost  invites  you  to  come  over  to  him.     I 


316  SEVASTOPOL 

say  "  you  ask  timidly,"  because  their  sufferings,  in  addi- 
tion to  your  sympathy,  inspire  you  with  a  dread  of  offend- 
ing, and  with  a  deep  respect  for  him  who  is  bearing  the 
suffering. 

"  In  my  leg,"  answers  the  soldier ;  but  you  immediately 
notice  by  the  folds  of  the  coverlet  tliat  he  has  lost  his  leg 
above  the  knee.  "  Thank  God  now,"  he  adds,  "  I  want  to 
be  discharged." 

"  How  long  ago  were  you  wounded  ? " 

"  This  is  the  sixth  week,  sir  ! " 

«  Does  it  still  hurt  ? " 

"  No,  it  does  not ;  only  in  bad  weather  I  have  a  kind  of 
pain  in  the  thigh,  that's  all." 

"  How  did  you  come  to  be  wounded  ? " 

"  In  the  fifth  haksion,  sir,  during  the  first  bardment.  I 
had  trained  my  cannon,  and  was  moving  like  this  toward 
the  second  embrasure,  when  he  struck  me  in  the  leg,  and 
I  felt  as  though  I  had  stepped  into  a  ditch.  I  looked 
down,  and  saw  my  leg  was  gone." 

"  Did  it  really  not  pain  you  at  first  ? " 

"  No ;  only  it  felt  as  though  some  one  had  stuck  some- 
thing hot  into  my  leg." 

"  And  later  ? " 

"And  later  it  did  not  hurt  either;  only  when  they 
began  to  stretch  the  skin,  there  was  a  little  itching.  The 
main  thing,  sir,  is  not  to  think :  if  you  don't  think 
you  are  all  right.  People  generally  suffer  because  they 
think." 

Just  then  a  woman  in  a  gray  striped  dress  and  wrapped 
in  a  black  kerchief  walks  over  to  you.  She  takes  part  in 
your  conversation  with  a  sailor,  and  begins  to  tell  you 
about  him,  about  his  suffering,  about  the  desperate  condi- 
tion in  which  he  was  for  four  weeks,  and  how,  after  he 
was  wounded,  he  had  them  stop  the  htter  that  he  might 
see  the  volley  of  our  battery ;  how  the  grand  dukes 
talked  to  him  and  made  him  a  present  of  twenty-five 


SEVASTOPOL  317 

roubles,  and  how  he  told  them  that  he  wanted  to  go  back 
to  the  bastion,  in  order  to  teach  the  younger  men,  even 
though  he  could  not  work  himself.  Saying  all  this  in  one 
breath,  the  woman  looks  now  at  you,  and  now  at  the 
sailor,  who  turns  away  his  face  as  though  he  did  not  hear 
her  and  picks  at  some  lint  on  the  pillow,  and  her  eyes 
sparkle  with  unusual  enthusiasm. 

"  This  is  my  wife,  sir ! "  remarks  the  sailor,  with  an 
expression  which  says :  "  You  must  pardon  her.  Of 
course,  she  is  a  woman,  and  she  is  saying  foolish  things." 

You  begin  to  understand  the  defenders  of  Sevastopol ; 
for  some  unknown  reason  you  feel  ashamed  before  this 
man.  You  would  like  to  tell  him  so  much,  in  order  to 
express  your  sympathy  and  admiration ;  but  you  cannot 
find  words,  or  are  dissatisfied  with  those  that  occur  to 
you,  —  and  you  bow  in  silence  before  this  speechless, 
unconscious  grandeur  and  firmness  of  spirit,  this  modesty 
as  regards  his  own  worth. 

"  Well,  God  grant  that  you  recover  soon  ! "  you  say  to 
him,  and  you  stop  in  front  of  another  patient,  who  is  lying 
on  the  floor,  and  apparently  awaiting  death  in  unspeakable 
agony. 

It  is  a  fair-complexioned  man,  with  a  swollen,  pale  face. 
He  is  on  his  back,  his  left  hand  thrown  under  his  head,  in 
an  attitude  expressive  of  excruciating  pain.  The  dry, 
open  mouth  with  difficulty  emits  a  stertorous  breath  ;  his 
blue,  leaden  eyes  are  turned  upwards,  and  the  bandaged 
stump  of  his  right  arm  protrudes  from  underneath  the 
rumpled  coverlet.  The  oppressive  odour  of  dead  flesh 
impresses  you  still  more  forcibly,  and  the  consuming, 
internal  fire,  which  penetrates  all  the  hmbs  of  the  suf- 
ferer, seems  to  penetrate  you,  too. 

"  Is  he  unconscious  ? "  you  ask  the  woman  who  is 
walking  behind  you,  and  who  glances  kindly  at  you,  as  at 
a  relative. 

"  No,  he  can  hear  still,  though  very  faintly,"  she  adds, 


318  SEVASTOPOL 

in  a  whisper.  "I  have  offered  him  some  tea  to-day, — 
well,  even  though  he  is  a  stranger  to  me,  I  ought  to  pity 
him,  —  but  he  hardly  drank  any." 

"  How  do  you  feel  ? "  you  ask  him. 

The  wounded  soldier  rolls  his  pupils,  in  reply  to  your 
voice,  but  he  does  not  see,  nor  understand  you. 

"  A  burning  in  my  heart !  " 

A  little  farther  on,  you  see  an  old  soldier  changing  his 
linen.  His  face  and  body  are  of  an  indefinite  cinnamon 
colour,  and  as  lean  as  a  skeleton's.  He  has  no  arm  at 
all :  it  has  been  cauterized  at  the  armpit.  He  sits  up 
briskly ;  but  by  his  dull,  dim  eyes,  by  the  terrible  lean- 
ness and  the  wrinkles  of  his  face,  you  see  that  he  is  a 
creature  that  has  forfeited  the  better  part  of  his  life  in 
suffering. 

On  the  other  side,  you  notice  on  a  cot  the  agonized, 
pale,  gentle  face  of  a  woman,  upon  whose  cheek  plays  a 
feverish  glow. 

"  Our  sailor  woman  was  struck  by  a  bomb  on  the  fifth," 
your  guide  tells  you.  "  She  was  bringing  her  husband  his 
dinner  to  the  bastion." 

"  Well,  did  they  cut  it  off?" 

"  Yes,  above  the  knee." 

If  your  nerves  are  strong,  go  now  through  the  door  on 
the  left :  in  that  room  they  are  putting  on  bandages  and 
performing  operations.  You  will  there  see  doctors,  with 
arms  blood-stained  up  to  their  elbows,  and  pale,  morose 
countenances,  busy  at  a  cot,  on  which,  with  open  eyes  and 
speaking,  as  though  in  dehrium,  meaningless  but  some.- 
times  simple  and  touching  words,  lies  a  wounded  soldier, 
under  the  influence  of  chloroform.  The  doctors  are  occu- 
pied with  the  disgusting  but  beneficent  work  of  amputa- 
tion. You  will  see  the  sharp,  bent  knife  entering  the 
healthy  body ;  you  will  see  the  wounded  man  suddenly 
come  to  his  senses,  with  a  terrible,  piercing  cry,  and  with 
curses ;  you  will  see  the   surgeon's  assistant  throw  the 


SEVASTOPOL  319 

amputated  arm  into  a  corner ;  you  will  see,  on  a  litter,  in 
the  same  room,  another  wounded  man,  who,  watching  the 
operation  performed  on  his  companion,  writhes  and  gi'oans, 
not  so  much  from  physical  pain,  as  from  the  moral 
anguish  of  anticipation,  —  you  will  see  terrible,  soul-stir- 
ring spectacles ;  you  will  see  war,  not  in  its  regular, 
beautiful,  and  brilliant  array,  with  music  and  drum-taps, 
with  fluttering  flags,  and  generals  going  through  evolu- 
tions with  their  horses,  but  war  in  its  real  aspect,  —  in 
blood,  in  suffering,  in  death. 

Upon  issuing  from  this  house  of  suffering,  you  will  cer- 
tainly experience  a  feeling  of  relief ;  you  will  breathe  in 
the  fresh  air  with  fuller  lungs,  will  feel  pleasure  in  the 
consciousness  of  your  health,  but,  at  the  same  time,  in 
the  contemplation  of  this  suffering,  you  will  draw  the 
consciousness  of  your  nothingness,  and  you  will  go 
calmly  and  without  any  indecision  to  the  bastions. 

"  What  do  the  death  and  suffering  of  such  an  insignifi- 
cant worm  as  I  mean  in  comparison  with  so  many  deaths 
and  so  much  suffering  ? "  But  the  sight  of  the  clear  sky, 
the  gleaming  sun,  the  beautiful  city,  the  open  church, 
and  the  military  moving  in  various  directions  soon  brings 
your  mind  into  the  normal  condition  of  light-heartedness, 
petty  cares,  and  preoccupation  with  the  present  alone. 

Maybe  you  will  see  emerging  from  the  church  the 
funeral  of  some  officer,  with  a  rose-coloured  coffin,  and 
music,  and  unfurled  banners ;  maybe  the  sounds  of  firing 
from  the  bastions  reach  your  ear,  but  that  will  not  induce 
your  former  thoughts.  The  funeral  will  appear  to  you  as 
a  very  fine  warlike  spectacle,  the  sounds  as  very  fine  war- 
like sounds,  but  you  will  not  connect  with  this  spec- 
tacle, nor  with  these  sounds,  the  clear  idea  of  suffering 
and  death  which  you  have  formed  at  the  point  where  the 
wounds  are  dressed. 

After  passing  the  church  and  the  barricade,  you  will 
enter  into  the  most  animated  part  of  the  city,  living  its 


320  SEVASTOPOL 

own  inner  life.  On  both  sides  are  the  signs  of  shops 
and  inns.  Tradespeople,  women  in  bonnets  and  ker- 
chiefs, foppish  officers,  —  everything  tells  of  the  firmness 
of  spirit,  the  self-confidence,  and  the  security  of  the 
inhabitants. 

Go  into  the  inn  on  the  right,  if  you  wish  to  hear  the 
conversations  of  the  sailors  and  officers  :  no  doubt  they 
are  now  telhng  of  the  past  night,  of  F^nka,  of  the  action 
of  the  24th,  of  how  expensive  and  bad  the  cutlets 
are  that  they  serve,  and  of  how  this  or  that  companion 
was  killed. 

"  The  deuce  take  it,  but  it's  bad  with  us  to-day  ! "  says 
a  fair- browed,  beardless  naval  officer  in  a  green,  hand- 
made scarf. 

"  Where  is  that  ? "  asks  another. 

"  In  the  fourth  bastion,"  answers  the  youthful  officer, 
and  you  are  sure  to  look  with  greater  attention,  and  even 
with  a  certain  reverence,  at  the  fair-browed  officer,  as  he 
mentions  the  fourth  bastion.  His  too  great  volubility,  his 
waving  of  hands,  his  loud  laughter  and  voice,  which  had 
struck  you  as  impudent,  now  will  appear  to  you  as  that 
peculiar  dare-devil  mood  which  some  very  young  men 
acquire  after  peril ;  still,  you  imagine  that  he  is  going  to 
tell  you  how  bad  it  is  in  the  fourth  bastion  from  the  can- 
non-balls and  bombs :  not  at  all !  it  is  bad  because  it  is 
dirty  there. 

"  It  is  impossible  to  walk  over  to  the  battery,"  he 
says,  pointing  at  his  boots,  which  are  covered  with  mud 
above  the  calf. 

"  My  best  gun-captain  has  been  killed  to-day,  —  he 
was  struck  in  the  forehead,"  says  another. 

"  Who  ?  Mityukhin  ?  No  —  Shall  I  ever  get  that 
veal  ?     Rascals  ! "  he  adds,  turning  to  the  waiter  — 

"  Not  Mityiikhin,  but  Abramov.  He  was  a  brave  fel- 
low, —  he  was  in  six  sorties." 

At  the  other  comer  of  the  table  two  infantry  officers 


SEVASTOPOL  321 

are  seated  at  cutlets  and  peas,  with,  a  bottle  of  sour 
Crimean  wine,  called  "  Bordeaux  : "  one  of  them,  with  a 
red  collar  and  two  stars  on  his  overcoat,  a  young  man,  is 
telling  the  other,  with  a  black  collar  and  without  stars, 
about  the  action  at  Alma.  The  first  has  imbibed  a  little 
freely,  and  from  the  hesitation  in  his  recital,  from  the 
indecision  in  his  glance,  expressive  of  a  suspicion  that 
he  is  doubted,  but  especially  from  the  fact  that  he  is 
playing  too  great  a  part  in  all  this,  and  that  it  is  all  too 
terrible,  it  is  evident  that  he  is  swerving  greatly  from 
stern  truth. 

But  you  do  not  care  for  these  stories,  which  you  will, 
for  a  long  time  to  come,  hear  in  all  the  corners  of  Eussia : 
you  want  to  go  at  once  to  the  bastions,  especially  to  the 
fourth,  of  which  you  have  been  told  so  many  different 
tales.  When  somebody  tells  you  that  he  has  been  in  the 
fourth  bastion,  he  announces  the  fact  with  special  delight 
and  pride ;  when  some  one  says  that  he  is  going  to 
the  fourth  bastion,  you  will  be  sure  to  notice  a  slight  agi- 
tation in  him,  or  too  great  an  indifference ;  if  they  wish 
to  tease  somebody,  they  tell  him,  "  You  ought  to  be 
stationed  in  the  fourth  bastion ; "  if  you  meet  a  litter, 
and  ask,  "  Where  from  ? "  the  answer  is  generally,  "  From 
the  fourth  bastion."  There  are,  on  the  whole,  two  dis- 
tinct opinions  in  regard  to  this  terrible  bastion  :  one,  the 
opinion  of  those  who  have  never  been  there,  and  who  are 
convinced  that  the  fourth  bastion  is  a  sure  grave  for  any 
one  who  does  go  there ;  the  other,  the  opinion  of  those 
who  live  in  it,  like  that  fair-coniplexioned  midshipman, 
and  who  will  say  of  the  fourth  bastion,  that  it  is  dry 
or  dirty  there,  warm  or  cold  in  the  earth  huts,  and 
so  forth. 

In  the  half-hour  wliich  you  have  had  in  the  inn,  the 
weather  has  changed  :  the  fog  that  has  been  hanging  over 
the  sea  has  gathered  into  gray,  dull,  damp  clouds,  and  is 
shrouding  the  sun;   a  gloomy,  frozen   mist    is  settling 


322  SEVASTOPOL 

down  and  wetting  the  roofs,  the  sidewalks,  and  the  over- 
coats of  the  soldiers. 

You  pass  another  barricade,  and  through  a  door  on  the 
right  walk  up  a  broad  street.  Beyond  this  barricade 
the  houses  on  both  sides  of  the  street  are  uninhabited ; 
there  are  no  shop  signs,  the  doors  are  covered  with 
boards,  the  windows  are  broken  ;  here  a  corner  of  the 
house  is  shattered,  there  a  roof  is  pierced.  The  structures 
look  like  old  veterans  who  have  suffered  all  kinds  of  woe 
and  want,  and  seem  to  be  looking  haughtily,  and  even 
somewhat  contemptuously,  at  you.  On  the  road  you 
stumble  on  shells  strewn  about,  and  on  puddles  full 
of  water,  dug  out  by  bombs  in  the  stony  soil.  In  the 
street  you  meet  or  catch  up  with  detachments  of  soldiers, 
Cossack  sharpshooters,  and  officers ;  occasionally  you  see 
a  woman  or  a  child.  The  woman  does  not  wear  a  bonnet ; 
she  is  a  sailor's  wife,  in  a  fur  jacket  and  soldier  boots. 

Proceeding  along  the  street  and  descending  a  small 
hill,  you  observe  all  about  you,  not  houses,  but  certain 
strange  ruin-heaps  of  stones,  boards,  clay,  and  beams ; 
in  front  of  you,  on  a  steep  hill,  you  see  a  black,  dirty 
space,  checkered  by  ditches,  —  and  that  is  the  fourth  bas- 
tion. Here  you  find  still  fewer  people ;  one  sees  no 
women  at  all ;  the  soldiers  walk  rapidly ;  along  the  road 
you  may  notice  drops  of  blood,  and  you  are  sure  to  meet 
four  soldiers  with  a  litter,  and  on  the  litter  a  pale,  sallow 
face,  and  a  blood-stained  overcoat.  If  you  ask,  "  Where 
are  you  wounded  ? "  the  bearers  will  tell  you,  angrily, 
without  turning  toward  you,  "  In  the  leg,"  or  "  In  the 
arm,"  if  he  is  slightly  wounded ;  or  they  will  keep  sullen 
silence,  if  the  head  does  not  appear  on  the  litter,  or  he  is 
dead,  or  severely  wounded. 

The  whizzing  of  a  cannon-ball  or  bomb  near  by,  while 
you  are  ascending  the  hill,  gives  you  an  unpleasant  sensa- 
tion. You  suddenly  will  understand,  quite  differently 
from  what  you  understood  before,  the  meaning  of  those 


SEVASTOPOL  323 

discharges  which  you  had  heard  in  the  city.  Some  joyful 
recollection  will  suddenly  flash  through  your  imagination  ; 
your  own  personality  will  begin  to  interest  you  more  than 
your  observations ;  you  will  show  less  attention  to  your 
surroundings,  and  you  will  suddenly  be  seized  by  an  un- 
pleasant sensation  of  indecision.  In  spite  of  this  mean 
little  voice  at  the  sight  of  peril,  which  is  speaking  within 
you,  you,  especially  as  you  glance  at  the  soldier  who, 
waving  his  arms,  and  slipping  down-hill  over  the  liquid 
mud,  runs  toward  you,  laughing,  —  you  silence  that  voice, 
involuntarily  straighten  out  your  chest,  lift  your  head 
higher,  and  clamber  up  the  slippery  hill  of  clay. 

You  have  barely  reached  the  summit,  when  on  the 
right  and  left  of  you  rifle-balls  begin  to  whizz,  and  you 
stop  to  reflect  whether  you  had  not  better  walk  in  the 
trench,  which  runs  parallel  to  the  road ;  but  the  trench 
is  filled  more  than  knee-deep  with  such  a  liquid,  yellow, 
ill-smelhng  mud,  that  you  will  certainly  select  the  road 
along  the  brow  of  the  hill,  especially  since  you  see  every- 
body else  walking  in  the  road.  After  passing  two  hun- 
dred steps,  you  come  out  on  a  dirty  expanse  which  is  all 
dug  up,  and  which  is  surrounded  on  all  sides  by  gabions, 
earthworks,  casemates,  platforms,  and  dug-outs,  on  which 
stand  large  cast-iron  guns,  and  on  which  cannon-balls  lie 
in  regular  heaps.  Everything  seems  to  be  scattered  about 
without  any  aim,  connection,  or  order.  Here,  in  the  bat- 
tery, sits  a  group  of  sadors ;  there  in  the  middle  of  the 
space,  half-buried  in  the  mud,  lies  a  broken  cannon ; 
there  an  infantry  soldier,  shouldering  his  gun,  crosses 
the  battery,  and  with  difficulty  pulls  his  feet  out  of  the 
sticky  mud.  But  everywhere,  on  all  sides,  and  in  all 
places,  you  see  splinters,  unexploded  bombs,  cannon-balls, 
signs  of  the  camp,  —  and  all  that  is  merged  in  the  liquid, 
viscous  mud.  Not  far  from  you,  as  you  imagine,  you 
hear  a  cannon-ball  strike ;  you  think  you  hear  on  all 
sides  the  various  sounds  of  buUets,  —  buzzing  like  a  bee, 


324  SEVASTOPOL 

whistling,  whizzing,  or  whining  like  a  string,  —  you  hear 
the  terrible  booming  of  a  discharge  which  shakes  you  all 
up,  and  seems  awful  and  terrible  to  you. 

"  So  here  it  is,  the  fourth  bastion  !  Here  is  this  terri- 
ble, truly  awful  place  !  "  you  think,  experiencing  a  slight 
sensation  of  pride  and  a  mighty  sensation  of  suppressed 
terror.  But  you  must  be  undeceived  ;  this  is  not  yet  the 
fourth  bastion.  Tliis  is  the  Yazdnov  redoubt,  —  a  com- 
paratively secure,  and  not  at  all  terrible  place.  In  order 
to  reach  the  fourth  bastion,  turn  to  the  right,  along  this  nar- 
row trench,  along  which  a  foot-soldier  is  moving  with  bent 
body.  Along  this  trench  you  will,  perhaps,  again  meet 
stretchers,  a  sailor,  soldiers  with  spades  ;  you  will  see 
miners,  and  dug-outs  in  the  mud,  into  wliich  two  men 
can  creep  by  bending ;  and  you  will  see  there  the  sharp- 
shooters of  the  Black  Sea  battalions,  who  change  their 
boots,  eat,  smoke  their  pipes,  and  live  in  there ;  and  you 
will  see  again  the  same  stinking  mud  all  around  you,  the 
traces  of  an  encampment,  and  abandoned  cast  iron  of  every 
possible  shape. 

By  walking  another  three  hundred  steps,  you  again 
come  out  to  a  battery, —  to  a  small  square  cut  up  by 
ditches,  and  surrounded  by  gabions  filled  with  dirt,  guns 
on  platforms,  and  earth  ramparts.  Here  you  will,  prob- 
ably, see  some  five  sailors,  playing  cards  under  the  breast- 
work, and  a  naval  officer,  who,  noticing  that  you  are  a 
newcomer,  and  curious,  will  gladly  show  you  everything 
under  his  charge  which  might  interest  you.  This  officer 
so  calmly  rolls  up  a  cigarette  with  yellow  paper,  while 
seated  on  a  gun,  so  calmly  passes  from  one  embrasure  to 
another,  so  calmly  speaks  with  you,  without  the  least 
affectation,  that,  in  spite  of  the  bullets,  which  whizz 
above  you  oftener  than  before,  you  yourself  become  cool, 
and  attentively  question  the  officer  and  listen  to  his  story. 

This  officer  will  tell  you  —  but  only  if  you  question 
him   about  it  —  of   the   bombardment  of   the  5th;  he 


SEVASTOPOL  325 

will  tell  you  how  only  one  gnu  of  his  battery  could  be 
put  in  action,  and  how  of  all  the  attendants  only  eight 
men  were  left,  and  how,  nevertheless,  on  the  following  6th, 
he  fired  off  all  his  guns ;  he  will  tell  you  how  on  the  5th 
a  cannon-ball  entered  an  earth  hut  of  the  sailors,  and  laid 
low  eleven  men  ;  he  will  show  you  through  the  embra- 
sure the  batteries  and  trenches  of  the  enemy,  wliich  are 
here  not  more  than  from  two  hundred  to  two  hundred  and 
fifty  feet  distant.  I  am,  however,  afraid  that  under  the 
influence  of  the  buzzing  bullets,  you,  leaning  out  of  the 
emljrasure,  in  order  to  catch  a  ghmpse  of  the  enemy,  will 
see  nothing,  or,  if  you  do  see,  you  will  be  very  much  sur- 
prised to  find  that  tliis  white  rocky  rampart,  which  is  so 
near  to  you,  and  where  now  and  then  burst  white  cloud- 
lets of  smoke,  —  that  this  white  rampart  is  the  enemy,  — 
he,  as  the  soldiers  and  sailors  say. 

It  is  even  quite  possible  that  the  naval  officer,  from 
vanity,  or  simply  to  afford  himself  an  amusement,  will 
want  to  do  a  little  firing  in  your  presence.  "  Send  the 
gun-captain  and  the  crew  up  to  the  gun  ! "  and  about 
fourteen  sailors,  putting  their  pipes  into  their  pockets, 
or  hurriedly  munching  their  hardtack,  will  briskly  and 
gaily  walk  up  to  the  gun,  clattering  with  their  spiked 
boots  on  the  platform,  and  load  it.  Look  closely  at  the 
faces,  the  whole  form,  aud  the  movements  of  these  men : 
in  every  wrinkle  of  their  sunburnt,  broad-cheeked  faces, 
in  every  muscle,  in  the  breadth  of  their  shoulders,  in  the 
stoutness  of  their  legs,  clad  in  huge  boots,  in  every  motion 
—  calm,  firm,  deliberate  —  are  seen  the  chief  characteris- 
tics of  Russian  strength,  simplicity  and  tenacity  ;  but  here, 
you  imagine  that  the  peril,  the  wretchedness,  and  the 
sufferings  of  war  have  imprinted  on  every  face,  in  addi- 
tion to  these  chief  traits,  the  consciousness  of  their  own 
worth,  and  of  elevated  thought  and  feeling. 

Suddenly  a  frightful  roar,  which  shakes  not  only  your 
aural  organs,  but  your  whole  being  as  well,  startles  you 


326  SEVASTOPOL 

so  that  your  whole  body  quivers.  Thereupon  you  hear 
the  retreating  whistle  of  the  projectile,  and  a  dense 
powder  smoke  envelops  you,  the  platform,  and  the  black 
figures  of  the  sailors  moving  upon  it.  About  this  shot  of 
ours  you  will  hear  various  comments  by  the  sailors,  and 
you  will  observe  their  animation,  and  the  manifestation 
of  a  feeling  which,  perhaps,  you  had  not  expected  to  see, 
—  the  feeling  of  malice,  of  revenging  themselves  on  the 
enemy,  which  is  concealed  in  every  breast. 

"  Struck  right  into  the  embrasure ;  I  think  it  has  killed 
two  —  there  they  are  carrying  them,"  are  the  joyful  ex- 
clamations you  hear.  "  Now,  he  is  getting  mad  ;  he  will 
let  her  go  in  a  minute,"  somebody  remarks,  and,  indeed, 
soon  after  you  see  a  flash  and  smoke  in  front  of  you. 
The  sentry  on  the  breastwork  cries,  "  Can-non  ! "  Imme- 
diately after  a  cannon-ball  whines  past  you,  splashes 
against  the  ground,  and  scatters  a  funnel-shaped  mass  of 
debris  and  stones  about  you.  The  commander  of  the 
battery  is  angry  at  this  ball,  and  orders  them  to  load  a 
second  and  third  gun ;  the  enemy  keeps  returning  the 
fire,  and  you  experience  interesting  sensations,  and  hear 
and  see  interesting  things. 

The  sentry  again  shouts  "  Cannon  ! "  and  you  hear  the 
same  sound  and  thud,  and  see  the  same  debris ;  or  he 
calls  out  "  Mortar ! "  and  you  hear  the  even,  fairly  agree- 
able whistling  of  a  bomb,  with  which  you  find  it  hard  to 
connect  the  idea  of  something  terrible ;  you  hear  this 
whistling  coming  nearer  and  growing  faster ;  then  you 
see  a  black  ball,  feel  a  palpable  blow  against  the  ground, 
and  hear  the  ringing  explosion  of  the  bomb.  Then  the 
splinters  fly  through  the  air  whistling  and  whining; 
stones  rustle  in  the  air,  and  you  are  bespattered  with 
mud.  At  these  sounds  you  experience  a  strange  sensa- 
tion of  pleasure,  and  at  the  same  time  of  fear.  During 
the  moment  when  you  are  conscious  of  the  projectile's 
flight  above  your  head,  you  cannot  help  thinking  that  it 


SEVASTOPOL  327 

will  kill  you ;  but  a  feeling  of  vanity  sustains  you,  and 
nobody  notices  tbe  knife  that  is  cutting  your  heart.  But 
when  the  projectile  has  passed  by  you,  without  doing  you 
any  harm,  you  revive,  and  you  are  seized,  though  only 
for  an  instant,  by  a  bhssful,  inexpressibly  pleasant  sen- 
sation, so  that  you  find  a  special  charm  in  danger,  in  this 
game  of  life  and  death ;  you  want  the  balls  or  bombs  to 
fall  closer  and  closer  to  you. 

But  the  sentry  shouts  again,  in  his  loud,  thick  voice, 
"  Mortar ! "  and  again  there  is  a  whistle,  a  blow,  and  an 
explosion  of  a  bomb ;  but  at  the  very  moment  of  this 
sound  you  are  startled  by  the  groan  of  a  man.  You 
reach  the  wounded  man,  who,  blood-stained  and  bespat- 
tered with  mud,  has  a  strange  inhuman  aspect,  at  the 
same  time  as  the  stretcher.  A  part  of  the  sailor's  chest 
has  been  torn  out.  In  the  first  few  minutes  you  see  on 
his  mud-covered  face  nothing  but  terror  and  a  feigned, 
premature  expression  of  suffering,  peculiar  to  a  man 
in  this  condition ;  but  when  the  stretcher  is  brought 
and  the  wounded  man  is  placed  there  on  his  sound  side, 
you  observe  that  this  expression  is  exchanged  for  one  of 
ecstasy  and  of  an  exalted,  unexpressed  thought ;  his  eyes 
burn  more  brightly,  his  teeth  are  set,  his  head  raises  itself 
with  difficulty,  and,  while  he  is  being  lifted  up,  he  halts 
the  stretcher,  and  with  effort,  and  in  a  trembling  voice, 
says  to  his  companions,  "  Forgive  me,  brothers ! "  He 
wants  to  say  sometliing  else,  and  it  is  evident  that 
he  wants  to  say  something  touching,  but  he  only  repeats 
"  Forgive  me,  brothers  !  "  Just  then  a  fellow  sailor  walks 
over  to  him,  puts  his  cap  on  his  head,  which  the  wounded 
man  holds  up  for  the  purpose,  and  calmly,  with  equanim- 
ity, waving  his  arms,  returns  to  his  gun. 

"  Seven  or  eight  men  a  day  are  taken  off  that  way,"  the 
naval  officer  informs  you,  in  response  to  the  expression  of 
terror  on  your  face,  yawning  and  rolling  his  cigarette 
of  yellow  paper. 


328  SEVASTOPOL 

And  so  you  have  seen  the  defenders  of  Sevastopol  in 
the  very  place  of  the  defence,  and  you  walk  back,  for 
some  reason  paying  no  attention  to  the  balls  and  bullets 
which  continue  to  whistle  until  you  reach  the  ruins  of  the 
theatre,  —  you  walk  in  a  quiet,  exalted  mood.  The  main 
and  consoling  conviction  which  you  have  carried  away  is 
that  it  is  impossible  to  break  the  strength  of  the  Russian 
people,  —  and  this  impossibility  you  have  seen,  not  in  the 
mass  of  traverses,  breastworks,  cunningly  intertwined 
trenches,  mines,  and  ordnance  piled  upon  each  other,  of 
which  you  did  not  understand  a  thing,  but  in  the  eyes, 
speeches,  and  manner,  in  what  is  called  the  spirit,  of  the 
defenders  of  Sevastopol.  What  they  are  doing,  they  do 
so  simply,  with  so  little  effort,  and  with  such  intensity, 
that  you  are  persuaded  that  they  are  able  to  do  a  hun- 
dred things  more  —  they  can  do  anything. 

You  comprehend  that  the  feeling  which  makes  them 
work  is  not  that  feeling  of  paltriness,  vanity,  oblivious- 
ness, such  as  you  have  experienced  yourself,  but  another, 
more  powerful  sentiment  which  has  made  of  them  men 
who  live  calmly  under  cannon-balls,  surrounded  by  hun- 
dreds of  accidents  of  death,  instead  of  the  one  death  to 
which  all  men  are  subject,  and  who  live  under  these  con- 
ditions amidst  uninterrupted  labour,  vigilance,  and  mud. 
People  cannot  assume  these  terrible  conditions  for  the 
sake  of  a  cross,  a  name,  or  a  threat ;  there  must  be  an- 
other, higher  impelling  cause.  This  cause  is  a  feeling 
which  rarely  comes  to  the  surface  and  is  kept  in  bashful 
abeyance  in  a  Russian,  but  which  is  in  the  depth  of  every 
soul,  —  the  love  of  his  country.  Only  now  the  stories 
about  the  first  siege  of  Sevastopol,  when  there  were 
no  fortifications  in  it,  no  armies,  no  physical  possibility 
of  retaining  it,  and  yet  when  there  was  not  the  slightest 
doubt  that  it  would  not  surrender  to  the  enemy,  —  about 
the  times  when  that  hero,  worthy  of  ancient  Greece,  Kor- 
nildv,  driving  through  the  army,  said,  "  We  will  die,  boys, 


SEVASTOPOL  329 

but  will  not  surrender  Sevastopol,"  and  our  Eussians, 
incapable  of  expressing  themselves  glibly,  answered,  "We 
will  die,  hurrah  ! "  —  only  now  the  stories  about  these 
times  have  ceased  for  you  to  be  a  beautiful  historical  tra- 
dition, but  have  become  a  certainty,  a  fact.  You  can 
easily  comprehend  and  imagine  to  yourselves  the  people 
whom  you  have  just  seen  as  those  heroes,  who  in  those 
troublous  times  did  not  fall,  but  rise  in  spirit,  and  with 
delight  prepared  themselves  to  the,  not  for  the  city,  but 
for  their  country.  This  epic  of  Sevastopol,  of  which  the 
Eussian  nation  was  the  hero,  will  long  leave  grand  traces 
in  Eussia. 

It  is  growing  toward  evening.  The  sun,  before  setting, 
has  emerged  from  the  gray  clouds  which  veil  the  sky, 
and  suddenly  has  illuminated  with  its  crimson  light  the 
violet  clouds,  the  greenish  sea  that  is  covered  with  ships 
and  boats  and  that  is  agitated  in  an  even,  broad  swell, 
and  the  white  structures  of  the  city,  and  the  people  mov- 
ing about  in  its  streets.  Over  the  water  are  borne  the 
sounds  of  some  antiquated  waltz,  which  the  regimental 
band  is  playing  in  the  boulevard,  and  the  sounds  of  volleys 
from  the  bastions,  which  strangely  echo  them. 

Sevastojwl,  Ajjril  25,  1855. 


IN    MAY,     1855 


Six  months  have  passed  since  the  time  when  the  first 
cannon-ball  whistled  from  the  bastions  of  Sevastopol  and 
tore  up  the  earth  in  the  works  of  the  enemy,  and  since 
then  thousands  of  bombs,  balls,  and  bullets  have  been 
flying  incessantly  from  the  bastions  into  the  trenches, 
and  from  the  trenches  into  the  bastions,  and  the  angel  of 
death  has  not  ceased  hovering  over  them. 

Thousands  of  human  ambitions  have  been  slighted, 
thousands  have  been  satisfied,  or  puffed  up,  and  thousands 
have  been  put  to  rest  in  the  embraces  of  death.  What  a 
mass  of  rose-coloured  coffins  and  linen  shrouds  !  But  still 
the  same  sounds  are  heard  from  the  bastions ;  with  the 
same  involuntary  trepidation  and  terror  the  French  are 
looking  on  a  clear  day  from  their  encampment  on  the 
yellowish,  furrowed  earth  of  the  bastions  of  Sevastopol,  on 
the  black  figures  of  our  sailors  moving  on  them,  and  count- 
ing the  embrasures  from  which  threateningly  protrude 
our  iron  guns.  Just  so  the  master's  mate  in  the  telegraph 
tower  surveys  through  the  glasses  the  motley  forms  of 
the  French,  their  batteries,  tents,  columns,  moving  about 
on  the  gi'een  hill,  and  the  puffs  of  smoke  that  flash  in  the 
trenches ;  and  with  the  same  eagerness  heterogeneous 
masses  of  men  from  all  the  corners  of  the  world,  with 
still  more  heterogeneous  desires,  are  streaming  into  this 
fateful  spot.  And  the  question,  still  undecided  by  diplo- 
macy, has  not  yet  been  solved  by  powder  and  blood. 

331 


II. 

In  the  besieged  city  of  Sevastopol,  the  regimental  band 
was  playing  in  the  boulevard,  near  the  pavilion,  and 
throngs  of  the  mihtary  and  of  women  were  strolling 
leisurely  through  its  avenues.  The  bright  vernal  sun  had 
risen  in  the  morning  above  the  works  of  the  English, 
had  passed  over  to  the  bastions,  thence  to  the  city,  to  the 
Nicholas  barracks,  and,  shining  with  equal  cheer  upon  all, 
was  now  sinking  toward  the  blue,  distant  sea,  which 
swayed  in  even  motion  and  was  resplendent  with  a  silvery 
sheen. 

A  tall  infantry  officer,  with  rather  stooping  shoulders, 
who  was  drawing  on  his  hand  a  clean,  though  not  very 
white,  glove,  came  out  of  the  gate  in  front  of  a  small  sailor 
cottage,  built  on  the  left  side  of  Ocean  Street,  and,  looking 
pensively  at  his  feet,  ascended  the  street  toward  the 
boulevard. 

The  expression  of  this  officer's  homely  countenance  did 
not  betray  any  great  mental  powers,  but  simple-mindedness, 
thoughtfulness,  honesty,  and  a  tendency  to  sobriety.  He 
was  badly  built,  not  very  agile,  and  apparently  timid  in 
his  movements.  He  was  dressed  in  a  little  worn  cap,  a 
light  overcoat  of  a  rather  peculiar  lilac  shade,  behind  the 
edge  of  which  could  be  seen  a  gold  watch-chain,  pantaloons 
with  foot-straps,  and  clean,  well-polished  calfskin  boots. 
He  might  have  been  a  German,  if  the  features  of  his  face 
had  not  indicated  his  pure  Russian  origin,  or  an  adjutant, 
or  a  regimental  quartermaster  (but  then  he  would  have 
had  spurs),  or  an  officer  who  for  the  period  of  the  cam- 

332 


SEVASTOPOL  333 

paign  had  left  the  cavalry  or,  perhaps,  the  Guards.  He 
was,  in  reality,  a  former  cavalry  officer,  and  at  the  present 
moment,  as  he  was  walking  up  toward  the  boulevard, 
he  was  thinking  of  a  letter  which  he  had  received  from 
his  former  comrade,  now  out  of   service  and  a  landed 

proprietor  in  the  Government  of  T ,  and  from  his  wife, 

pale,  blue-eyed  Natasha,  his  great  friend.  He  recalled 
one  passage  in  that  letter,  in  w4iich  his  comrade  said : 

"  When  the  Invalid  is  brought  to  us,  Piipkci  (thus  the 
ex-uhlan  called  his  wife)  rushes  headlong  into  the  ante- 
chamber, seizes  the  gazette,  runs  with  it  to  the  bay  window 
in  the  arhour,  or  into  tlie  drawing-roo?)i  (in  which,  as  you 
will  remember,  we  have  passed  such  delightful  winter 
evenings,  when  the  regiment  was  stationed  in  our  city), 
and  reads  the  heroic  deeds  of  you  soldiers  with  such  zeal 
as  you  can  hardly  imagine.  She  frequently  says  of  you : 
'  Now,  Mikhaylov,'  says  she,  '  is  a  dear.  I  am  ready  to 
kiss  him  when  I  see  him.  He  is  fighting  in  the  bastions, 
and  will  certainly  get  the  Cross  of  St.  George,  and  they 
will  write  about  him  in  the  papers  — '  and  so  forth,  so 
that  I  am  beginning  in  all  earnestness  to  be  jealous  of 
you." 

In  another  passage  he  said  : 

"  The  gazettes  reach  us  dreadfully  late,  and  though 
there  is  a  lot  of  oral  news,  you  can't  believe  it  all.  For 
example,  the  young  ladies  ivith  music,  whom  you  know, 
were  saying  yesterday  that  Napoleon  had  been  captured 
by  our  Cossacks,  and  sent  to  St.  Petersburg ;  but  you  can 
imagine  how  little  I  believe  this.  We  were  told  by  a 
gentleman  who  has  arrived  from  St.  Petersburg  (he  has 
a  place  on  special  affairs  at  a  minister's,  a  charming 
fellow,  and  now  that  there  is  no  one  in  town,  he  is  the 
greatest  imaginable  resource  to  us)  so  he  assures  us  that 
our  men  have  occupied  Eupatoria,  so  that  the  French 
have  no  longer  any  conimitnication  with  BalaMciva,  and 
that  we  had  two  hundred  soldiers  kdled  in  this  action. 


334  SEYASTOrOL 

while  the  French  lost  fifteen  thousand.  My  wife  was 
so  elated  at  this,  that  she  caroused  all  night,  and  she  says 
that  her  heart  tells  her  that  you  have  certainly  taken 
part  in  this  action,  and  have  distinguished  yourself." 

In  spite  of  the  words  and  expressions  which  I  have 
purposely  given  in  italics,  and  of  the  whole  tone  of  the 
letter,  Staff-Captain  Mikhaylov  recalled,  with  inexpress- 
ibly melancholy  pleasure,  his  pale  friend  in  the  prov- 
ince, and  how  he  used  to  sit  with  her  in  the  arbour  in 
the  evenings,  and  talk  about  sentiments ;  he  recalled  his 
good  comrade,  the  uhlan,  and  how  he  would  get  angry 
and  lose,  when  they  played  in  the  study  at  kopek-stakes, 
and  how  his  wife  would  laugh  at  liini ;  he  tliought  of 
the  friendship  of  these  people  for  himself  (maybe,  he 
thought,  there  was  something  more  than  friendship 
on  the  side  of  his  pale  friend) :  these  people  with  their 
surroundings  flashed  through  his  imagination  in  a  remark- 
ably soothing,  blissfully  rose-coloured  light,  and,  smiling 
at  his  reminiscences,  he  placed  his  hand  on  the  pocket 
where  lay  the  letter  which  was  so  dear  to  him. 

From  the  reminiscences  Staff-Captain  Mikhaylov  in- 
voluntarily passed  to  dreams  and  hopes.  "  What  will 
be  Natasha's  surprise  and  joy,"  he  thought,  striding 
through  a  narrow  side  street,  "  when  she  suddenly  reads 
in  the  Invalid  how  I  was  the  first  to  climb  on  a  cannon, 
and  received  the  Cross  of  St.  George !  The  captaincy 
I  am  to  receive  anyway,  having  been  recommended  for 
it  long  ago.  Then  I  may  easily  get  the  grade  of  major 
by  seniority  this  very  year,  because  many  of  my  fellow 
officers  have  been  killed  in  this  campaign,  and  many 
more,  no  doubt,  will  be.  And  then  there  will  be  another 
engagement,  and  I, "as  a  well-known  man,  will  be  en- 
trusted with  a  regiment  —  lieutenant-colonel  —  the  Anna 
decoration  on  my  neck  —  colonel  —  "  and  he  was  already 
a  general,  honouring  with  liis  visit  Natasha,  the  widow  of 
his  comrade,  who,  according  to  his  dreams,  would  be  dead 


SEVASTOPOL  335 

by  that  time,  —  when  the  sounds  of  the  boulevard  music 
reached  his  ears  more  distinctly,  the  throngs  of  people 
burst  upon  his  vision,  and  he  found  himself  in  the  boule- 
vard, a  staff-captain  as  before. 


III. 

He  went,  at  first,  to  the  pavilion,  near  whicli  stood 
the  musicians,  for  whom  other  soldiers  of  the  regiment 
acted  as  stands  and  held  the  open  music,  and  near  whom 
scribes,  yunkers,  and  nurses  with  their  children  formed 
a  circle,  rather  looking  on  than  listening.  About  the 
pavilion  stood,  sat,  and  walked  chiefly  sailors,  adjutants, 
and  officers  in  white  gloves.  On  the  broad  avenue  of 
the  boulevard  walked  all  sorts  of  officers  and  all  sorts 
of  women,  now  and  then  in  bonnets,  but  more  often  in 
kerchiefs  (there  were  also  some  without  kerchiefs  or 
bonnets) ;  there  was  not  an  old  woman  among  them, 
but,  on  the  contrary,  all  were  young.  Farther  below, 
in  the  fragrant,  shady  avenues  of  white  acacias,  wall^ed  or 
sat  separate  groups. 

No  one  on  the  boulevard  was  especially  delighted 
to  meet  Captain  Mikhaylov,  except,  perhaps,  Captain 
Obzhogov  and  Captain  Siislikov  of  his  own  regiment, 
who  fervently  pressed  his  hand ;  but  the  former  wore 
camel's-hair  trousers,  no  gloves,  a  threadbare  overcoat,  and 
had  a  sweaty  face,  and  the  latter  shouted  so  loudly  and 
carelessly,  that  it  was  annoying  to  walk  with  them,  espe- 
cially in  the  presence  of  the  officers  with  the  white 
gloves  (to  one  of  whom,  an  adjutant,  Staff-Captain  Mi- 
khaylov bowed,  and  to  another,  an  officer  of  the  staff,  he 
could  have  bowed,  because  he  had  met  him  twice  in  the 
house  of  a  common  acquaintance).  Besides,  what  pleasure 
was  it  to  him  to  walk  with  Messrs.  Obzhogov  and  Sus- 
likov,  since  he  met  them  without  this  about  six  times 

336 


SEVASTOPOL  337 

a  day,  and  each  time  pressed  their  hands  ?  It  was  not 
for  this  that  he  had  come  to  the  music. 

It  would  give  him  pleasure  to  walk  up  to  the  adjutant, 
with  whom  he  exchanged  greetings,  and  to  talk  with 
him  and  his  company,  not  that  Captains  Obzhdgov  and 
Suslikov  and  Lieutenant  Pashtetski  might  see  that  he 
was  speaking  with  them,  but  simply  because  they  were 
pleasant  people,  and  besides  knew  all  the  news,  and 
would  tell  it  to  him. 

But  why  was  Staff-Captain  Mikhaylov  afraid  to  walk 
over  to  them  ?  "  What  if  they  suddenly  should  not 
bow  to  me,"  he  thought,  "  or  if  they  should  bow  and  con- 
tinue speaking  among  themselves,  as  if  I  were  not  pres- 
ent, or  should  walk  entirely  away  from  me,  and  I  should 
remain  all  alone  among  the  aristocrats  ? "  The  word 
aristocrats  (in  the  sense  of  a  higher,  select  circle,  in 
whatsoever  condition  in  life)  has  of  late  acquired  with 
us,  in  Kussia,  where,  it  seems,  it  ought  never  to  exist, 
great  popularity,  and  has  penetrated  into  every  part  of 
the  country  and  into  every  stratum  of  society  whither 
vanity  has  penetrated  (and  into  what  conditions  of  time 
and  circumstance  does  this  wretched  inclination  not  pene- 
trate ?) :  among  merchants,  among  officials,  scribes,  and 
officers,  into  Saratov,  into  Mamadyshi,  into  Vinnitsy, 
everywhere  where  people  live.  And  since  there  were 
many  people  in  Sevastopol,  consequently  there  was  also 
much  vanity,  that  is,  there  were  many  aristocrats,  in 
spite  of  the  fact  that  at  any  moment  death  was  hanging 
over  the  head  of  every  aristocrat  and  of  every  plebeian. 

To  Captain  Obzhdgov,  Staff-Captain  Mikhaylov  was  an 
aristocrat ;  to  Staff-Captain  Mikhaylov,  Adjutant  Kaliigin 
was  an  aristocrat,  because  he  was  an  adjutant  and  on 
"  thou  "  terms  with  another  adjutant.  To  Adjutant  Ka- 
lugin.  Count  Nordov  was  an  aristocrat,  because  he  was 
an  aid-de-camp. 

Vanity,  vanity,  and  vanity  everywhere,  even  on  the 


338  SEVASTOPOL 

brink  of  the  grave,  and  among  people  ready  to  die  from 
deep  conviction.  Vanity !  It  must  be  a  characteristic 
trait  and  peculiar  disease  of  our  century.  Why  was 
nothing  heard  of  this  passion  among  men  of  former  days, 
as  one  hears  of  the  smallpox  and  of  the  cholera  ?  Why 
are  there  only  three  kinds  of  people  in  our  age :  those 
who  accept  the  principle  of  vanity  as  a  necessary,  con- 
sequently as  a  just,  fact,  and  who  freely  submit  to  it ; 
those  who  accept  it  as  an  unfortunate,  but  insurmount- 
able, condition ;  and  those,  again,  who  act  unconsciously 
and  servilely  under  its  influence  ?  Why  did  Homer  and 
Shakespeare  speak  of  love,  of  glory,  of  suffering,  while 
the  literature  of  our  age  is  only  an  endless  story  of 
snobs  and  vanity  ? 

The  staff-captain  walked  twice  in  indecision  past  the 
circle  of  his  aristocrats ;  the  third  time  he  made  an  effort 
over  himself,  and  went  up  to  them.  This  circle  was  com- 
posed of  four  officers :  of  Adjutant  Kalugin,  Mikhaylov's 
acquaintance,  of  Adjutant  Prince  Galtsiu,  who  really  was 
something  of  an  aristocrat  as  compared  with  Kalugin,  of 
Colonel  Nef^rdov,  one  of  the  so-called  122  society  men 
(who  had  entered  the  service  for  this  campaign  from  the 
retired  list),  and  of  Captain  of  Horse  Praskilkhin,  also  one 
of  those  122.  Fortunately  for  Mikhaylov,  Kalugin  was 
in  an  excellent  frame  of  mind  (the  general  had  just  had 
ti  very  confidential  talk  with  him,  and  Prince  Galtsin, 
who  had  arrived  from  St.  Petersburg,  was  stopping  with 
him) ;  he  did  not  regard  it  as  beneath  his  dignity  to  ex- 
tend his  hand  to  Staff-Captain  Mikhaylov,  a  thing  which, 
however,  Praskilkhin  could  not  make  up  his  mind  to  do, 
although  he  had  frequently  met  Mikhaylov  in  the  bastion, 
had  again  and  again  drunk  his  wine  and  brandy,  and  even 
owed  him  twelve  roubles  and  a  half  at  cards.  As  he  did 
not  yet  know  Prince  Galtsin  very  intimately,  he  did  not 
wish  to  betray  to  him  his  acquaintance  with  a  simple 
staff- captain  of  the  infantry.     He  bowed  slightly  to  him. 


SEVASTOPOL  339 

"Well,  captain,"  said  Kalugin,  "when  shall  we  go 
again  to  the  little  bastion  ?  Do  you  remember  how  we 
met  on  the  Schwartz  redoubt  ?  It  was  hot  there,  wasn't 
it?" 

"  Yes,  it  was,"  said  Mikhaylov,  recalling  how  on  that 
night,  as  he  was  making  his  way  along  the  trench  up  to 
the  bastion,  he  had  met  Kalugin,  who  was  walking  along 
in  a  dashing  manner,  briskly  clanking  his  sabre. 

"  By  rights,  I  ought  to  go  there  to-morrow ;  but  we 
have  a  sick  man,"  continued  Mikhaylov,  "  an  officer,  and 
so—" 

He  was  on  the  point  of  telling  that  it  was  not  his  turn, 
but  that  the  commander  of  the  eighth  company  was  ill, 
and  that,  as  there  was  but  the  ensign  left  in  the  company, 
he  had  considered  it  his  duty  to  propose  himself  in  place 
of  Lieutenant  Nepshis^tski,  and  that  therefore  he  was 
going  to  the  bastion  to-day.  Kaliigin  was  not  listening 
to  him. 

"  I  feel  that  something  will  happen  soon,"  said  he  to 
Prince  Galtsin. 

"  And  won't  anything  happen  to-day  ? "  timidly  asked 
Mikhaylov,  glancing  now  at  Kalugin,  and  now  at  Galtsin. 

Nobody  replied.  Prince  Galtsin  only  frowned,  stared 
past  his  cap,  and,  after  a  moment's  silence,  asked : 

"  She  is  a  fine  girl,  the  one  in  the  red  kerchief.  Do 
you  not  know  her,  captain  ?  " 

"  She  lives  near  my  quarters,  and  is  a  sailor's  daughter," 
rephed  the  staff-captain. 

"  Come,  let  us  get  a  good  look  at  her  !  " 

Prince  Galtsin  took,  on  one  side,  Kahigin's  arm,  and  on 
the  other,  the  staff -captain's,  being  convinced  in  advance 
that  this  must  necessarily  afford  great  pleasure  to  the 
latter,  which,  indeed,  was  true  enough. 

The  staff-captain  was  superstitious,  and  regarded  it  as 
a  great  sin  to  busy  himself  with  women  before  an  action  ; 
but  on  this  occasion  he  feigned  to  be  a  libertine,  which 


340  SEVASTOPOL 

Prince  Galtsin  and  Kaliigin  obviously  did  not  believe, 
and  which  extremely  surprised  the  maiden  in  the  red 
kerchief,  v^ho  had  noticed  more  than  once  that  the  cap- 
tain blushed  whenever  he  passed  by  her  window.  Pras- 
kukhin  followed  them  from  behind  and  kept  nudging  the 
arm  of  Prince  Galtsin,  making  all  kinds  of  remarks  in 
French.  As  it,  was  not  possible  for  four  persons  to  walk 
abreast  on  the  narrow  path,  he  was  compelled  to  walk  by 
himself ;  only,  when  making  the  second  circuit,  he  linked 
his  arm  with  a  well-known,  brave  naval  officer,  Servjagin, 
who  had  come  up  to  speak  with  him,  and  who  was  also  anx- 
ious to  join  the  circle  of  the  aristocrats.  The  famous  hero 
was  delighted  to  put  his  muscular,  honest  hand  through 
the  arm  of  Praskukhiu,  who  was  known  to  everybody, 
and  to  Servyagin  himself,  as  a  not  very  decent  kind  of 
man.  When  Praskiikhin,  explaining  to  Prince  Galtsin 
his  acquaintance  with  that  sailor,  whispered  to  him  that 
he  was  a  famous  hero,  Prince  Galtsin,  who  had  been  in 
the  fourth  bastion  the  day  before  and  had  seen  a  bomb 
explode  within  twenty  paces  of  him,  did  not  pay  the 
least  attention  to  Servyagin,  on  the  ground  that  he  him- 
self was  a  not  less  brave  fellow  than  that  gentleman,  and 
because  he  surmised  that  very  many  reputations  were  not 
merited. 

It  gave  Staff -Captain  Mikhaylov  such  pleasure  to  prom- 
enade in  this  company,  that  he  forgot  his  dear  letter  from 

T ,  and  the  gloomy  thoughts  that  had  assailed  him 

before  his  departure  to  the  bastion.  He  stayed  with  them 
until  they  began  to  converse  exclusively  among  themselves, 
and  evade  his  glances,  by  which  they  meant  to  let  him 
know  that  he  could  leave ;  finally  they  walked  altogether 
away  from  him.  But  the  staff-captain  was,  nevertheless, 
contented,  and,  when  he  passed  by  Yunker  Baron  Pest, 
who  had  been  uncommonly  proud  and  self-confident  ever 
since  the  previous  night,  when  he  had  for  the  first  time 
passed  a  night  in  the  blindage  of  the  fifth  bastion,  and 


SEVASTOPOL  341 

who,  in  consequence  of  this,  regarded  himself  as  a  hero, 
he  was  not  in  the  least  mortified  by  the  suspiciously 
supercilious  expression  with  which  the  yunker  straight- 
ened himself  out  and  took  off  his  cap  to  him. 


IV. 

No  sooner  had  the  staff-captain  crossed  the  threshold 
of  his  lodgings,  than  entirely  different  thoughts  entered 
his  mind.  He  saw  his  small  room,  with  its  uneven  earth 
floor  and  crooked  windows  pasted  over  with  paper,  his 
old  bed,  with  a  rug  nailed  to  the  wall  above  it,  on  which 
an  amazon  was  represented,  and  where  two  Tula  pistols 
were  hanging,  and  the  dirty  bed,  with  the  chintz  coverlet, 
of  the  yunker  who  was  living  with  him ;  he  saw  his 
Nikita,  with  dishevelled,  greasy  hair,  who,  scratching  him- 
self, rose  from  the  floor ;  he  saw  his  old  overcoat,  his 
boots,  and  a  bundle,  from  which  protruded  the  point  of 
a  cheese  and  the  neck  of  a  wine  bottle  filled  with  brandy, 
gotten  ready  for  him  for  the  bastion,  —  and  he  suddenly 
recalled  that  he  was  to  pass  the  whole  night  with  his 
company  in  the  lodgments. 

"  I  shall  certainly  be  killed  to-night,"  thought  the 
staff-captain,  "  I  feel  it.  The  main  thing  is  that  it  was 
not  my  turn  to  go,  and  I  offered  myself.  It  is  always 
the  man  who  obtrudes  who  is  killed.  And  what  is  it 
that  ails  that  accursed  Nepshisdtski  ?  It  is  very  likely 
he  is  not  ill  at  all,  and  here  another  mab  will  be  killed  in 
his  place,  he  certainly  will  be.  However,  if  I  am  not 
killed,  I  shall  by  all  means  be  recommended  for  promo- 
tion. I  noticed  how  the  commander  of  the  regiment  was 
pleased  when  he  heard  me  say :  '  Permit  me  to  go,  if 
Lieutenant  Nepshis^tski  is  ill.'  If  it  does  not  bring  nie 
a  majorship,  I  cannot  fail  getting  a  Cross  of  St.  Vladimir. 

"  This  is  the  thirteenth  time  I  have  gone  to  the  bastion. 
Oh,  thirteen  is  a   bad   number.     I  am   sure  I  shall  be 

342 


SEVASTOPOL  343 

killed,  I  feel  I  shall  be  !  but  somebody  had  to  go,  and  the 
company  could  not  be  sent  out  with  the  ensign.  If  some- 
thing happened,  the  honour  of  the  regiment,  the  honour 
of  the  army,  would  be  involved.  It  was  my  duty  to  go  — 
yes,  my  sacred  duty.     Still,  I  have  a  presentiment." 

The  staff-captain  forgot  that  a  similar  presentiment, 
in  a  greater  or  lesser  degree,  had  assailed  him  before 
when  he  had  to  go  to  the  bastion,  and  he  did  not  know 
that  the  same  more  or  less  strong  presentiment  was 
experienced  by  everybody  who  went  into  action.  After 
having  calmed  himself  with  the  conception  of  duty,  which 
was  especially  developed  and  strong  in  the  staff-captain, 
he  sat  down  at  the  table,  and  began  to  write  his  farewell 
letter  to  his  father.  Ten  minutes  later,  after  he  had 
written  the  letter,  he  rose  from  the  table,  with  eyes  wet 
with  tears,  and,  saying  mentally  all  the  prayers  which  he 
knew,  he  began  to  dress  himself.  His  tipsy,  coarse  serv- 
ant lazily  handed  him  his  new  coat  (the  old  one,  which 
the  staff-captain  put  on  whenever  he  went  to  the  bastion, 
was  not  mended). 

"  Why  is  not  the  coat  mended  ?  All  you  care  for  is 
sleeping,  lazybones  ! "  angrily  said  Mikhaylov. 

"  Sleeping  ?  "  growled  Nikita.  "  I  am  doing  nothing 
but  running  around  the  whole  day  like  a  dog ;  I  am  all 
worn  out,  and  then  I  may  not  even  sleep  ? " 

"  You  are  drunk  again,  I  see  ! " 

"  I  did  not  get  drunk  on  your  money,  so  why  do  you 
reproach  me  ? " 

"  Shut  up,  blockhead  ! "  cried  the  staff-captain,  ready 
to  strike  him ;  if  he  was  out  of  humour  before,  he  now 
completely  lost  his  patience  and  felt  mortified  by  the 
coarseness  of  Nikita,  whom  he  liked  and  even  pampered, 
and  with  whom  he  had  been  living  for  twelve  years. 

"  Blockhead  ?  Blockhead  ? "  repeated  the  servant. 
"  Why  do  you  call  me  such  a  name,  sir  ?  Think  what 
is  before  you  !     It  is  not  right  to  curse  ! " 


344  SEVASTOPOL 

Mikhaylov  recalled  whither  he  was  to  go  soon,  and  he 
felt  ashamed  of  himself. 

"  Whom  would  you  not  make  lose  his  patience,  Nikita  ? " 
he  said,  in  a  meek  voice.  "  Leave  this  letter  to  father  on 
the  table,  —  don't  touch  it ! "  he  added,  blushing. 

"As  you  command,  sir,"  said  Nikita,  becoming  senti- 
mental under  the  influence  of  the  wine  which  he  had 
drunk,  as  he  said,  on  his  own  money,  and  winking  his 
eyes,  in  an  obvious  desire  to   burst  out  into  tears. 

When  the  staff-captain  said  on  the  steps,  "  Good-bye, 
Nikita  ! "  the  latter  suddenly  exploded  in  forced  sobs,  and 
darted  forward  to  Idss  the  hands  of  his  master.  "  Good- 
bye, master  !  "  he  said,  blubbering.  An  old  sailor  woman, 
who  was  standing  on  the  porch,  being  a  woman,  could 
not  keep  from  joining  this  sentimental  scene,  began  to 
wipe  her  eyes  with  her  dirty  sleeve  and  to  say  something 
about  gentlemen  even  having  to  suffer  all  kinds  of  tor- 
ments, and  that  she,  poor  creature,  was  left  a  widow,  and 
began  for  the  hundredth  time  to  tell  drunken  Nikita  her 
woe :  how  her  husband  was  killed  in  the  first  bombard- 
ment, how  her  cottage  was  laid  in  ruins  (the  one  she  was 
now  living  in  did  not  belong  to  her),  and  so  forth.  After 
his  master's  departure,  Nikita  Hghted  a  pipe,  asked  the 
landlady's  daughter  to  go  for  some  brandy,  and  at  once 
stopped  weeping ;  on  the  contrary,  he  exchanged  some 
angry  words  with  the  old  woman  for  a  httle  pail  which, 
so  he  claimed,  she  had  smashed. 

"  And,  maybe,  I  shall  only  be  wounded,"  the  staff-cap- 
tain reflected,  as  he  was  approaching  the  bastion  with  his 
company,  in  the  twilight.  "  Where  will  it  be  ?  How  ? 
Here  or  here  ? "  he  said  to  himself  mentally,  pointing  to 
his  abdomen  and  to  his  chest.  "  If  it  should  be  here,"  he 
thought  of  the  upper  part  of  his  leg,  "  it  might  go  all 
round.  But  if  here,  and  with  a  splinter  at  that,  —  that 
will  be  the  end  !  " 

The  staff-captain  walked  along  the  trenches  and  reached 


SEVASTOPOL  345 

the  lodgments  in  safety ;  in  conjunction  with  an  officer 
of  sappers  he  set  the  men  to  work,  though  the  darkness 
was  complete,  and  sat  down  in  a  small  pit  beneath  the 
breastwork.  There  was  little  firing.  Occasionally  there 
was  a  flash  of  fire,  now  on  our  side,  now  on  his,  and  the 
burning  fuse  of  a  bomb  described  a  fiery  arc  on  the  dark, 
starry  heaven.  But  all  the  bombs  lodged  far  behind  and 
to  the  right  of  the  entrenchment,  in  the  pit  of  which  the 
staff-captain  was  sitting.  He  took  a  drink  of  brandy, 
ate  a  piece  of  cheese,  lighted  his  cigarette,  and,  having 
said  his  prayers,  wanted  to  take  a  nap. 


Peince  Galtsin,  Lieutenant-Colonel  Nef^rdov,  and 
Praskukhin,  whom  no  one  had  invited,  with  whom  no 
one  spoke,  but  who  did  not  leave  them,  went  from  the 
boulevard  to  Kaliigin's  to  drink  tea. 

"  Well,  you  did  not  finish  the  story  about  Vaska 
Mendel,"  said  Kaliigin,  who,  having  taken  off  his  over- 
coat, sat  down  near  the  window  in  a  soft  easy  chair,  and 
unbuttoned  the  collar  of  his  clean,  starched  linen  shirt 
"  How  did  he  get  married  ? " 

"  It  is  killing,  friend  !  Je  vous  dis,  il  y  avail  un  temps 
on  ne  parlait  que  de  ga  a  Petershourg"  said  Prince  Gal- 
tsin, smiling ;  he  leaped  up  from  his  seat  near  the  piano, 
and  seated  himself  on  the  window  near  Kaliigin.  "  It  is 
simply  kilHug.     I  know  all  the  details  —  " 

And  he  began  gaily,  cleverly,  and  briskly  to  tell  a  love- 
story,  which  we  will  leave  untold,  because  it  does  not 
interest  us.  It  is,  however,  a  remarkable  fact  that  not 
only  Prince  Galtsin,  but  all  the  gentlemen,  of  whom  one 
took  up  his  position  on  the  window,  another  stretched  his 
legs,  and  a  third  sat  down  at  the  piano,  seemed  to  be 
different  men  from  what  they  had  been  in  the  boulevard : 
there  was  nothing  of  that  ridiculous  conceit  and  haughti- 
ness which  they  displayed  before  the  officers  of  infantry ; 
here  among  their  own,  they  were,  especially  Kaliigin  and 
Prince  Galtsin,  quite  natural,  and  agreeable,  merry,  and 
good  fellows.  The  conversation  turned  on  their  St. 
Petersburg  fellow  officers  and  acquaintances. 

«  What  of  Maslovski  ? " 

346 


SEVASTOPOL  347 

"Which?  The  uhlan  of  the  body-guard,  or  of  the 
horse-guard  ? " 

"I  know  both  of  them.  The  one  of  the  horse-guard 
was  a  boy  in  my  days,  just  out  of  school.  What  is  the 
elder  one  now  ?     A  captain  of  cavalry  ? " 

"  Yes,  long  ago." 

"  And  is  he  still  keeping  his  gipsy  maid  ? " 

"No,  he  has  given  her  up  — "  and  so  forth,  in  the 
same  strain. 

Then  Prince  Galtsin  sat  down  at  the  piano,  and  sang  a 
gipsy  song  superbly.  Praskukhin,  without  being  asked 
by  any  one  to  do  so,  began  to  accompany  him,  and  he  did 
it  so  well  that  he  was  asked  to  continue  singing  second, 
which  gave  him  much  pleasure. 

A  servant  came  in  with  tea,  cream,  and  cracknels  on  a 
silver  tray. 

"  Serve  the  prince  !  "  said  Kakigin. 

"  Really,  it  is  strange,  when  you  come  to  think  of  it," 
said  Galtsin,  taking  a  glass,  and  walking  to  the  window. 
"  Here  we  are  in  a  besieged  city :  piano,  tea  with  cream, 
and  such  quarters  as,  truly,  I  should  hke  to  have  in  St. 
Petersburg." 

"  If  it  were  not  for  this,"  said  the  old  lieutenant-colonel, 
who  was  dissatisfied  with  everything,  "  this  eternal  expec- 
tation of  something  would  be  insufferable  —  to  see  men 
killed  day  after  day  —  and  no  end  to  it  —  and  to  live  in 
mud  and  have  no  comforts." 

"  And  how  is  it  with  our  infantry  officers,"  said  Kalugin, 
"  who  are  living  with  their  soldiers  in  the  bastions  and  in 
the  bHndage,  and  who  eat  the  soldiers'  beet  soup  —  how 
is  it  with  them  ? " 

"  How  is  it  with  them  ?  Though  they  do  not  change 
their  linen  for  ten  days  at  a  time,  they  are  heroes,  and 
wonderful  men." 

Just  then  an  infantry  officer  entered  the  room. 

"I  —  I  was  ordered  —  may  I  report  to  Gen —  to  his 


348  SEVASTOPOL 

Excellency  from  General  N ?  "  he  asked,  with  a  timid 

bow. 

Kahigin  rose,  but,  without  returning  the  officer's  salute, 
with  offensive  politeness  and  a  strained,  official  smile, 
asked  the  officer  whether  it  would  not  please  them  to  wait 
and,  without  asking  him  to  be  seated,  and  paying  no 
further  attention  to  him,  turned  to  Galtsin  and  began  to 
speak  to  him  in  French,  so  that  the  poor  officer,  who  was 
standing  in  the  middle  of  the  room,  was  absolutely  at  a 
loss  what  to  do  with  himself. 

"  A  very  pressing  affair,"  said  the  officer,  after  a  mo- 
ment's silence. 

"  Ah  !  then  please  come ! "  said  Kalugiu,  putting  on  his 
overcoat,  and  taking  the  officer  to  the  door. 

"  Eh  bun,  mcssietirs,  je  crois,  que  ccla  chaujfera  cette 
nuit,"  said  Kalugin,  coming  back  from  the  general's. 

"  What  ?  What  is  it  ?  A  sortie  ? "  they  all  began  to 
ask. 

"  I  do  not  know.  You  will  find  out  yourselves,"  said 
Kalugin,  with  a  mysterious  smile. 

"  My  commander  is  in  the  bastion,  consequently  I 
ought  to  go  there  myself,"  said  Praskukhin,  buckling  on 
his  sabre. 

But  nobody  replied  to  him ;  he  ought  to  have  known 
himself  whether  he  was  to  go  there,  or  not. 

Praskukhin  and  Nef(5rdov  went  out,  in  order  to  betake 
themselves  to  their  places.  "  Good-bye,  gentlemen ! "  "  Au 
revoir,  gentlemen !  We  shall  see  each  other  to-night ! " 
cried  Kalugin  through  the  window,  as  Praskukhin  and 
Nef^rdov,  leaning  on  the  bows  of  their  Cossack  saddles, 
galloped  down  the  street. 

"  Non,  dites  moi,  est-ce  qiCil  y  aura  veritahUment  quelque 
chose  cette  nuit  ? "  said  Galtsin,  lying  with  Kalugin  on  the 
window,  and  looking  at  the  bombs  which  were  rising 
above  the  bastions. 

"  I  may  tell  you,  you  see  —  you  have  been  in  the  bas- 


SEVASTOPOL  349 

tions,  have  you  not  ? "  (Galtsin  made  a  sign  of  affirmation 
though  he  had  been  but  once  in  the  fourth  bastion.) 
"  Opposite  our  lunette  was  a  trench,"  and  Kahigiu,  not 
being  a  speciahst,  but  still  regarding  his  military  reflec- 
tions as  quite  correct,  began,  somewhat  confusedly,  and 
distorting  the  fortification  terminology,  to  tell  about  the 
position  of  our  works  and  about  that  of  the  enemy's  and 
about  the  plan  of  the  impending  engagement. 

"  I  declare,  they  are  beginning  to  crack  a  httle  near  the 
lodgments.  Oh !  is  this  ours  or  his  ?  There  it  bursts," 
they  said,  lying  in  the  window,  looking  at  the  fiery  paths 
of  the  bombs  crossing  each  other  in  the  air,  at  the  flashes  of 
the  volleys,  which  for  a  moment  illuminated  the  dark 
blue  sky,  and  at  the  white  powder  smoke,  and  listening 
to  the  ever  increasing  sounds  of  the  reports. 

"  Quel  charniant  coup  d'ceil !  eh  ? "  said  Kahigin,  direct- 
ing his  guest's  attention  to  this  really  beautiful  spectacle. 
"  Do  you  know,  at  times  it  is  not  possible  to  distinguish 
a  bomb  from  a  star." 

"  Yes,  I  just  now  thought  it  was  a  star ;  but  it  began 
to  settle,  —  there  it  has  burst.  And  that  big  star  over 
there,  what  do  you  call  it  ?     It  is  just  like  a  bomb." 

"  Do  you  know,  I  am  so  accustomed  to  these  bombs  that 
I  am  quite  sure  that  in  Russia  all  these  will  seem  to  me, 
in  a  starry  night,  to  be  bombs.  One  gets  so  used  to 
things." 

"  I  wonder  whether  I  had  not  better  go  to  this  sortie," 
said  Prince  Galtsin,  after  a  moment  of  silence. 

"  Don't  say  that,  friend  !  Don't  even  think  of  it !  1 
won't  let  you  go  anyway,"  answered  Kaliigiu.  "  You 
have  time  yet,  friend  !  " 

"  Seriously  ?  So  you  think  that  I  ought  not  to  go  ? 
Eh?" 

At  this  time,  a  terrible  cracking  of  muskets  was 
heard  immediately  after  the  artillery  roar,  in  the  direc- 
tion where  these  gentlemen  were  looking,  and  thousands 


350  SEVASTOPOL 

of  small  lights  uninterruptedly  flashed  and  gleamed  all 
along  the  line. 

"  That's  it,  the  real  thing !  "  said  Kalugin.  "  I  cannot 
hear  with  equanimity  this  musketry-fire ;  you  know,  it 
just  gripes  my  soul.  There  is  a  hurrah  ! "  he  added,  lis- 
tening attentively  to  the  distant  drawKng  roar  of  hundreds 
of  voices,  "  ah-ah-ah,"  which  was  borne  to  him  from  the 
bastion. 

"  Whose  hurrah  is  this,  theirs  or  ours  ? " 

"  I  do  not  know  ;  it  has  now  come  to  a  hand-to-hand 
fight,  for  the  firing  has  stopped." 

At  that  moment,  an  officer  with  a  Cossack  rode  up  to 
the  porch  beneath  the  window,  and  leaped  from  his  horse. 

"  From  where  ? " 

"  From  the  bastion.     I  must  see  the  general." 

"  Come  on.     Well,  what  is  it  ?  " 

"  They  attacked  the  lodgments  —  took  them  —  The 
French  brought  up  immense  reserves  —  attacked  ours  — 
there  were  only  two  battalions,"  said,  out  of  breath,  the 
very  officer  who  had  come  in  the  evening,  with  difficulty 
drawing  his  breath,  but  walking  toward  the  door  with 
perfect  ease. 

"  Well,  did  they  retreat  ?  "  asked  Galtsin. 

"  No  ! "  angrily  replied  the  officer.  "  The  battalion 
came  up  in  time,  they  were  repulsed ;  but  the  commander 
of  the  regiment  was  killed,  and  many  officers,  and  I  am 
ordered  to  ask  for  reinforcements." 

With  these  words  he  went  with  Kalugin  to  the  gen- 
eral's, whither  we  shall  not  follow  him. 

Five  minutes  later,  Kalugin  was  seated  on  a  Cossack 
horse  (again  in  that  peculiar  quasi-Cossack  pose,  which, 
so  I  have  observed,  all  the  adjutants,  for  some  reason 
or  other,  find  especially  agreeable),  galloped  away  to  the 
bastion,  in  order  to  transmit  there  certain  orders,  and  to 
wait  for  some  news  of  the  result  of  the  engagement. 
Prince  Galtsin,  under  the  influence  of  that  strong  agita- 


SEVASTOPOL  351 

tion  which  the  signs  of  an  impending  engagement  pro- 
duce on  a  spectator  who  does  not  take  part  in  it,  went 
out  into  the  street,  and  began  aimlessly  to  pace  up  and 
down. 


VL 

Soldiers  were  carrying  the  wounded  on  stretchers 
and  leading  them  by  their  arms.  The  street  was  com- 
pletely dark ;  only  here  and  there  lights  glimmered  in  the 
windows  of  the  hospital  or  of  the  quarters  of  officers 
sitting  up  late.  From  the  bastions  was  borne  the  same 
roar  of  ordnance  and  of  musketry  cross-fires,  and  the 
same  lights  flashed  against  the  black  heaven.  Occasion- 
ally could  be  heard  the  tramp  of  the  horse  of  an  orderly 
galloping  past,  the  groan  of  a  wounded  soldier,  the  steps 
and  conversation  of  the  bearers,  or  a  feminine  voice  of 
some  frightened  inhabitant  who  had  gone  out  on  the 
porch  to  take  a  look  at  the  cannonade. 

Among  the  latter  was  also  our  acquaintance  Nikita, 
the  old  sailor  woman,  with  whom  he  had  in  the  mean- 
time made  peace,  and  her  ten-year-old  daughter. 

"  0  Lord,  and  most  holy  Virgin  ! "  the  old  woman 
said  to  herself,  with  a  sigh,  looking  at  the  bombs  which 
incessantly  flew  from  one  side  to  the  other,  like  balls  of 
fire.  "  Awful,  just  awful  !  Oho  !  There  was  nothing  like 
this  in  the  first  hardmcnt.  You  see  where  the  accursed 
one  has  burst  ?     Eight  over  our  house  in  the  village." 

"  No,  that  is  farther  away.  They  all  fall  into  Aunt 
Arinka's  garden,"  said  the  girl. 

"  And  where,  oh,  where  is  now  my  master  ? "  said 
Nikita,  in  a  chanting  voice,  and  still  a  little  drunk.  "  How 
I  do  love  this  master  of  mine  !  I  love  him  so  that  if  — 
God  forfend  it!  —  he  should  be  killed  in  the  accursed 
action,  I  do  not  know  what  I  should  do  with    myself, 

352 


SEVASTOPOL  353 

truly,  aunty,  upon  my  word  !  Just  let  me  tell  you  there 
is  no  master  like  him  !  He  is  not  to  be  mistaken  for  one 
of  those  that  play  cards  here  !  What  are  they  ?  Pshaw  ! 
In  short  — "  concluded  Nikita,  pointing  to  the  lighted 
window  of  his  master's  room,  where  Yunker  Zhvadcheski 
had  invited,  in  the  absence  of  the  staff-captain,  some 
guests  for  a  carousal,  in  celebration  of  the  cross  which 
he  had  received ;  these  were  Sub-Lieutenant  Ugrovich 
and  Sub-Lieutenant  Nepshis^tski,  who  was  suffering  from 
catarrh. 

"  The  little  stars,  the  little  stars  keep  a-rolling ! "  the 
girl,  gazing  a,t  the  sky,  broke  the  silence  whicli  followed 
after  Nikita's  words.  "  There,  there  another  has  come 
down.     What  is  that  for,  mamma  ?  " 

"  They  will  entirely  demolish  our  cottage,"  said  the  old 
woman,  sighing,  without  replying  to  her  daughter's 
question. 

"When  we  went  there  to-day  with  uncle,  mamma," 
continued  the  girl,  in  a  singsong,  "  such  an  awful  cannon- 
ball  was  lying  in  the  very  room  near  the  safe ;  it  must 
have  gone  through  the  vestibule,  and  have  flown  into  the 
room  —  such  an  awfully  big  one  that  you  could  not 
lift  it." 

"  Whoever  had  a  husband  and  money,  has  left,"  said 
the  old  woman,  "  but  there,  they  have  ruined  the  last 
little  cottage  I  had.  You  see,  you  see  how  he  is  firing, 
that  rascal !     Lord,  Lord  !  " 

"  And  as  we  were  coming  out,  one  bomb  came  a-flying 
and  it  burst,  and  it  scattered  the  dirt,  and  it  almost 
struck  uncle  and  me  with  a  splinter." 


VII. 

Prince  Galtsin  kept  coming  across  more  and  more 
wounded  soldiers  on  stretchers  and  afoot,  supporting  each 
other,  and  speaking  loudly  among  themselves. 

"  How  they  did  jump,  my  friends ! "  said,  in  a  bass,  a 
tall  soldier,  carrying  two  guns  on  his  back.  "  How  they 
jumped  and  cried  'Allah!  Allah  f^  and  began  to  crawl 
over  each  other.  You  kill  some,  and  others  come  in  their 
place,  —  there  is  nothing  to  be  done.     An  endless  —  " 

But  at  this  point  Galtsin  stopped  him. 

"  Are  you  from  the  bastion  ?  " 

"  Yes,  your  Honour  !  " 

"  Well,  what  has  happened  there  ?     Tell  me  ! " 

"  What  has  happened  ?  A  might  of  them  made  the 
advance,  your  Honour,  and  they  climbed  the  rampart, 
and  that's  all.  We  have  succumbed  entirely,  your 
Honour ! " 

"  How  succumbed  ?     Did  you  not  repel  them  ? " 

"  How  could  we  repel  them,  when  his  whole  might 
came  up  against  us  ?  They  have  disabled  us  all,  and  we 
are  getting  no  reinforcements." 

The  soldier  was  mistaken,  because  the  trenches  were  in 
our  possession ;  but  this  is  a  peculiarity  commonly  ob- 
served :  a  soldier  who  is  wounded  in  an  action  always 
considers  it  lost  aiid  dreadfully  sanguinary. 

"  How  is  it,  T  was  told  they  were  beaten  off  ? "  Galtsin 

1  Havinsj  fought  with  the  Turks,  our  soldiers  had  become  so  accus- 
tomed to  this  cry  of  the  enemy,  that  they  ascribed  it  also  to  the  French. 
—  Author's  note. 

864 


SEVASTOPOL  355 

said,  with  mortification.  "  Maybe  they  were  beaten  off 
after  you  left  ?     How  long  ago  did  you  leave  ? " 

"  Just  lately,  your  Honour ! "  answered  the  soldier, 
"  I  doubt  it.  The  trenches  must  all  be  on  his  side  —  we 
have  completely  succumbed." 

"  Well,  how  is  it  you  are  not  ashamed  ?  To  give  up 
the  trenches !  This  is  terrible  ! "  said  Galtsin,  saddened 
by  this  indifference. 

"  What  was  to  be  done  ?  There  was  such  a  might ! " 
grumbled  the  soldier. 

"  Oh,  your  Honour ! "  suddenly  said  a  soldier  on  a 
stretcher  which  came  alongside  them.  "  How  could  we 
help  giving  them  up,  when  nearly  all  of  us  have  been 
disabled  ?  If  we  had  had  the  proper  forces,  we  would 
not  have  given  them  up  in  a  lifetime.  But  what  was  to 
be  done?  I  stabbed  one,  and  then  it  struck  me  here  — 
Oh,  easier,  friends,  steadily,  friends,  walk  more  steadily ! 
Oh,  oh,  oh  !  "  groaned  the  wounded  man. 

"  Indeed,  there  seems  to  be  too  large  a  crowd  coming 
back,"  said  Galtsin,  again  stopping  the  tall  soldier  with 
the  two  guns.  "  What  are  you  going  for  ?  Oh,  there, 
stop ! " 

The  soldier  stopped,  and  with  his  left  hand  raised  his 
cap. 

"  Whither  are  you  going,  and  for  what  ? "  he  cried, 
sternly,  to  him.     "  Good-for  —  " 

But,  walking  up  close  to  the  soldier,  he  noticed  that 
his  right  arm  was  bare  above  the  elbow,  and  blood- 
stained. 

"  Wounded,  your  Honour ! " 

"  How  wounded  ? " 

"  Here,  I  suppose,  by  a  bullet,"  said  the  soldier,  pointing 
to  the  arm.  "  I  can't  tell  what  it  was  that  knocked  me 
in  the  head,"  and,  bending  down,  he  showed  his  blood- 
stained and  matted  hair  on  the  back  of  his  head. 

"  Whose  is  the  second  gun  ? " 


356  SEVASTOPOL 

"  A  French  carbine,  your  Honour !  I  took  it  away. 
Indeed,  I  should  not  have  come  away,  if  I  did  not  have 
to  accompany  this  soldier ;  he  might  fall  by  himself,"  he 
added,  pointing  to  a  soldier  who  was  walking  a  little 
ahead  of  them,  leaning  on  his  gun,  and  with  difficulty 
dragging  along  and  moving  his  left  leg. 

Prince  Galtsin  suddenly  felt  dreadfully  ashamed  for  his 
unjust  suspicions.  He  was  conscious  of  blushing;  he 
turned  his  face  away,  and,  without  asking  anything  else 
of  the  wounded,  or  observing  them,  he  walked  to  the 
ambulance  hall. 

Having  with  difficulty  made  his  way  on  the  porch, 
between  wounded  soldiers  on  foot  and  the  bearers  of 
stretchers,  who  went  in  with  the  wounded  and  came  out 
with  the  dead,  Galtsin  went  into  the  first  room,  cast  a 
glance  about  him,  and  at  once  involuntarily  turned 
around,  and  ran  out  into  the  street.     It  waa  too  terrible ! 


vni 

The  large,  high,  dark  hall,  illuminated  only  by  four  or 
five  candles,  with  which  the  surgeons  went  up  to  examine 
the  wounded,  was  literally  full.  The  bearers  continually 
brought  in  wounded  soldiers,  placed  them  close  to  each 
other  on  the  floor,  which  was  already  so  crowded  that 
the  unfortunates  were  pressed  together  and  soaked  in  the 
blood  of  each  other,  and  went  out  for  other  men.  The 
puddles  of  blood,  which  could  be  seen  in  unoccupied 
spots,  the  feverish  breaths  of  several  hundred  men,  and 
the  exhalations  of  the  men  busy  about  the  stretchers  pro- 
duced a  peculiar,  oppressive,  dense,  noisome  stench,  in 
which  the  candles  in  the  different  corners  of  the  room 
fhckered  gloomily.  The  sounds  of  various  groans,  sighs, 
and  snoring,  interrupted  now  and  then  by  a  penetrating 
cry,  hovered  in  the  air.  The  Sisters  of  Mercy,  with 
calm  faces  and  with  an  expression  not  only  of  mere  femi- 
nine, sickly,  lachrymose  compassion,  but  of  active,  practical 
sympathy,  stepping  here  and  there  over  the  wounded,  with 
medicaments,  with  water,  bandages,  and  lint,  flitted  be- 
tween the  blood-stained  overcoats  and  shirts.  The  sur- 
geons, with  rolled-up  sleeves,  kneeling  before  the  wounded, 
near  whom  the  assistants  held  the  candles,  examined,  felt, 
and  probed  the  wounds,  in  spite  of  the  terrible  groans  and 
entreaties  of  the  sufi'erers.  One  doctor  was  seated  at  a 
table  near  the  door,  and  just  as  Galtsin  entered  the  hall, 
he  marked  down  No.  532. 

"  Ivan  Bogaev,  private  of  the  third  company  of  the  S. 
regiment,  Fractura  fcniuris  complicata ! "  cried  another, 

3&7 


358  SEVASTOPOL 

from  the  end  of  the  hall,  feeling  the  shattered  leg.  "  Turn 
him  around ! " 

"  Oh,  oh,  fathers,  ray  fathers  !"  cried  the  soldier,  en- 
treating them  not  to  touch  him. 

"  Pcrforatio  capitis." 

"  Sem^n  Nefi(^dov,  lieutenant-colonel  of  the  N regi- 
ment of  infantry.  You  must  be  patient  a  little,  colonel, 
or  else  I  can't  do  anything.  I  will  give  you  up,"  said  a 
third,  rummaging  with  a  hook  in  the  brain  of  the  unfor- 
tunate lieutenant-colonel. 

"  Oh,  it  is  not  necessary !  Oh,  for  the  Lord's  sake, 
hurry  up,  hurry  up,  for  the  —  ah-ah-ah  !  " 

"  Perforatio  pectoris  —  Sevastyan  Sereda,  private  —  of 
what  regiment  ?  However,  don't  write  down,  moritur. 
Take  him  away,"  said  the  doctor,  walking  away  from  the 
soldier,  who  was  rolhug  his  eyes,  and  having  the  rattle  in 
his  throat. 

About  forty  soldiers  of  the  ambulance,  waiting  for  the 
loads  of  the  dressed  to  be  taken  to  the  hospital,  and  of 
the  dead  to  the  chapel,  were  standing  at  the  door,  and, 
silently,  now  and  then  sighing,  were  looking  at  this 
spectacle. 


IX. 

On  his  way  to  the  bastion,  Kalugin  met  many  wounded 
soldiers.  Knowing  from  experience  how  badly  such  a 
spectacle  affects  in  an  engagement  a  man's  spirit,  he  not 
only  did  not  stop  to  question  them,  but,  on  the  contrary, 
endeavoured  not  to  pay  the  least  attention  to  them.  At 
the  foot  of  the  hill  he  came  across  an  orderly,  who  was 
galloping  at  full  speed  from  the  bastion. 

"  Zobkin,  Zobkin  !  Stop  a  minute  ! " 

«  Well,  what  is  it  ? " 

"  Where  do  you  come  from  ? " 

"  From'  the  lodgments." 

"  Well,  how  is  it  there  ?  hot  ?  " 

"  Oh,  terrible  ! " 

And  the  orderly  galloped  away. 

Indeed,  although  there  were  few  volleys  of  musketry, 
the  cannonade  began  with  renewed  vim  and  fury. 

"  Oh,  it  is  bad  ! "  thought  Kalugin,  experiencing  a  cer- 
tain disagreeable  sensation,  and  he,  too,  had  a  presenti- 
ment, that  is,  a  very  common  thought,  —  the  thought  of 
death.  But  Kalugin  was  egoistical  and  endowed  with 
wooden  nerves,  in  short,  he  was  what  is  called  brave.  He 
did  not  succumb  to  his  first  sentiment,  and  began  to 
encourage  himself ;  he  thought  of  a  certain  adjutant,  of 
Napoleon's,  T  think,  who,  having  transmitted  his  orders, 
galloped  up  at  full  speed  to  Napoleon,  with  bleeding  head. 

"  Vous  etes  hlesse  !  "  said  Napoleon  to  him.  "  Je  vous 
demande  pardon,  sire,  je  S2iis  mort,"  and  the  adjutant  fell 
down  from  his  horse,  and  expired  on  the  spot. 

359 


360  SEVASTOPOL 

This  iucident  seemed  very  nice  to  him,  and  he  imagined 
himself  a  Httle  that  adjutant ;  then  he  struck  his  horse 
with  the  whip,  and  assumed  a  still  more  dashing  Cossack 
attitude,  looked  back  at  the  Cossack,  who,  standing  in  his 
stirrups,  was  galloping  behind  him,  and  arrived  as  a  val- 
iant soldier  at  the  place  where  he  had  to  dismount  from 
his  horse.  Here  he  found  four  soldiers,  who  were  sitting 
_on  some  stones,  and  smoking  their  pipes. 

"  What  are  you  doing  here  ? "  he  shouted  to  them. 

"  We  have  taken  away  a  wounded  man,  your  Honour, 
and  so  we  are  taking  a  little  rest,"  answered  one  of  them, 
hiding  his  pipe  behind  his  back,  and  doffing  his  cap. 

"  Taking  a  rest,  eh  ?      March  to  your  places  !  " 

He  w\T.lked  with  them  along  the  trench,  up  the  hill, 
meeting  wounded  soldiers  at  every  step.  When  he  had 
reached  the  top,  he  turned  to  the  left,  and,  having  taken 
a  few  steps  in  that  direction,  suddenly  found  himself 
alone.  A  splinter  whizzed  by  close  to  him,  and  struck 
into  the  trench.  Another  bomb  rose  in  front  of  him,  and, 
it  seemed,  was  flying  straight  upon  him.  All  at  once  he 
felt  terribly :  he  raced  forward  about  five  steps,  and  lay 
down  flat  on  the  ground.  When  the  bomb  exploded  some 
distance  away  from  him,  he  was  dreadfully  mortified, 
and  he  got  up  and  looked  around,  to  see  whether  anybody 
had  noticed  his  fall ;  but  nobody  was  near. 

When  terror  once  enters  your  soul,  it  does  not  easily 
give  way  to  another  sensation.  Having  always  boasted  of 
never  bending,  he  now  walked  up  the  trench  wath  hurried 
step,  and  almost  in  a  creeping  posture.  "  Ah,  it  is  bad  !  " 
he  thought,  stumbling,  "  I  shall  certainly  be  killed,"  and, 
feeling  how  heavily  he  was  breathing,  and  how  the  per- 
spiration stood  out  on  his  whole  body,  he  was  amazed  at 
himself,  but  no  longer  tried  to  overcome  his  feeling. 

Suddenly  somebody's  steps  were  heard  in  front  of  him. 
He  immediately  straightened  up,  raised  his  head,  and, 
briskly  clanking  his  sabre,  went  ahead  with  less  hurried 


SEVASTOPOL  361 

step.  He  did  not  recognize  himself.  When  he  came 
upon  an  officer  of  sappers  and  a  sailor,  who  were  walking 
toward  him,  and  the  first  called  out  to  him,  "  Lie  down  ! " 
pointing  to  the  bright  point  of  a  bomb,  which,  approaching 
brighter  and  brighter,  and  faster  and  faster,  struck  the 
ground  near  the  trench,  he  involuntarily  bent  his  head 
a  little,  under  the  influence  of  the  terrified  voice,  and 
walked  on. 

"  What  a  brave  fellow  ! "  said  the  sailor,  who  was  calmly 
watching  the  falhng  bomb,  and  with  an  experienced  eye 
at  once  figured  out  that  its  splinters  could,  not  reach  the 
trench.     "  He  does  not  even  want  to  he  down." 

There  were  but  a  few  paces  left  for  Kalugin  to  make 
across  the  small  square,  up  to  the  blindage  of  the  com- 
mander of  the  bastion,  when  he  was  again  overcome  by 
darkness  and  a  foolish  terror  ;  his  heart  beat  more  strongly, 
the  blood  rushed  to  his  head,  and  he  had  to  exert  an 
effort  over  himself,  in  order  to  run  as  far  as  the  blindage. 

"  Why  are  you  so  out  of  breath  ? "  said  the  general, 
when  he  communicated  the  orders  to  him. 

"  I  was  walking  very  fast,  your  Excellency  ! " 

"  Don't  you  want  a  glass  of  wine  ? " 

Kalugin  drank  a  glass  of  wine,  and  lighted  a  cigarette. 
The  engagement  was  over ;  only  a  heavy  cannonade  was 

kept  up  on  both  sides.   In  the  blindage  sat  General  N , 

the  commander  of  the  bastion,  and  some  six  other  officers, 
among  whom  was  also  Praskukhin,  and  they  were  discuss- 
ing various  details  of  the  action.  Sitting  in  this  cosy 
room,  with  its  blue  wall-paper,  with  a  divan,  a  bed,  a  table, 
on  which  lay  papers,  with  a  clock  and  an  image,  before 
which  a  lamp  was  burning ;  looking  at  these  signs  of  life, 
and  at  the  huge  yard  beams,  of  which  the  ceiling  was 
formed ;  and  Hstening  to  the  cannonading,  which  in  the 
bhndage  appeared  feeble,  Kalugin  absolutely  could  not 
comprehend  how  it  was  he  had  allowed  himself  twice 
to  be  overcome  by  such  an  unpardonable  weakness.     He 


362  SEVASTOPOL 

was  angry  with  himself,  and  he  was  anxious  for  some 
danger,  in  order  to  test  himself. 

"  I  am  glad  you  are  here,  captain,"  he  said  to  a  naval 
officer,  in  the  overcoat  of  an  officer  of  the  staff,  with  long 
moustache  and  the  Cross  of  St.  George,  who  had  just 
entered  into  the  blindage,  to  ask  the  general  for  some 
workmen  to  mend  in  his  battery  two  embrasures  which 
had  caved  in.  "  The  general  has  ordered  me  to  find  out," 
continued  Kalilgin,  when  the  commander  of  the  battery 
was  through  with  the  general,  "  whether  your  ordnance 
can  discharge  canister-shot  along  the  trench  ? " 

"  Only  one  gun  will  do  it,"  the  captain  replied,  gloomily. 

"  Still,  let  us  go  and  look." 

The  captain  frowned,  and  angrily  cleared  his  throat. 

"  I  have  been  standing  there  all  night,  and  have  come 
away  to  take  a  little  rest,"  he  said.  "  Can't  you  go  down 
yourself  ?  My  assistant.  Lieutenant  Karts,  is  there,  and 
he  will  show  you  around." 

The  captain  had  for  six  months  commanded  this,  one 
of  the  most  perilous  batteries,  and  had  passed  his  time 
uninterruptedly  in  the  bastion,  ever  since  the  beginning  of 
the  siege,  when  as  yet  there  were  no  blindages,' and  he 
had  among  sailors  a  reputation  for  bravery.  Consequently 
his  refusal  startled  and  surprised  Kaliigin.  "  A  fine  rep- 
utation ! "  he  thought, 

"  Well,  then  I  will  go  by  myself,  if  you  will  permit," 
he  said,  in  a  slightly  derisive  tone,  to  the  captain,  who, 
however,  did  not  pay  the  least  attention  to  his  words. 

Kahfgin  did  not  consider  that  he  had  at  different  times, 
taken  all  together,  passed  fifty  hours  in  the  bastions, 
whereas  the  captain  had  hved  there  for  six  months. 
Kalilgin  was  urged  on  by  vanity,  by  the  desire  to  shine, 
by  the  hope  of  earning  a  reward  and  a  reputation,  and  by 
the  charm  of  the  risk,  while  the  captain  had  long  passed 
tlirough  all  that :  at  first  he  had  been  vain,  had  done 
daring  deeds,  courted  danger,  hoped  for  rewards  and  for 


SEVASTOPOL  363 

a  reputation,  and  even  had  obtained  them,  but  now  all 
these  impelling  causes  had  lost  their  power  with  him,  and 
he  looked  at  matters  quite  differently.  He  promptly 
executed  his  duties,  but  comprehending  well  how  very 
few  chances  of  life  there  were  left  for  him,  after  six 
months  in  the  bastion,  he  no  longer  risked  these  chances 
without  imperative  necessity,  so  that  the  young  lieutenant, 
who  had  joined  the  battery  about  a  week  ago,  and  who 
now  was  showing  Kaliigin  around,  unnecessarily  vying 
with  him  in  thrusting  his  head  forward  through  the 
embrasures  and  walking  out  on  the  banquettes,  seemed 
ten  times  more  brave  than  the  captain. 

Having  inspected  the  battery,  Kalugin,  on  his  way  back 
to  the  blindage,  stumbled  in  the  darkness  on  the  general, 
who  with  his  orderlies  was  going  to  the  watch-tower. 

"  Captain  Praskiikhin  !  "  said  the  general,  "  please  go 
down  to  the  right  lodgment,  and  tell  the  second  battalion 

of  the  M regiment,  who  are  working  there,  to  leave 

the  work,  and  to  walk  away  noiselessly  and  join  their 
regiment,  which  is  standing  in  reserve  at  the  foot  of  the 
hill  —  You  understand  ?  Take  them  yourself  down 
to  the  regiment." 

"  Yes,  sir  ! " 

Praskiikhin  ran  at  full  gallop  to  the  lodgment. 

The  firing  was  growing  less  frequent. 


X. 

"  Is  this  the  second  battahon  of  the  M regiment  ?" 

asked  Praskvikhin,  having  reached  the  place,  and  stum- 
bling against  soldiers  who  were  carrying  dirt  in  bags. 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Where  is  the  commander  ?  " 

Surmising  that  the  commander  of  the  company  was 
wanted,  Mikhaylov  crawled  out  of  his  pit,  and,  taking 
Praskiikhin  for  the  chief,  he  went  up  to  him,  with  his 
hand  at  his  visor. 

"  The  general  has  commanded  —  you  —  please  go  —  as 
fast  as  possible  —  and,  above  all,  softly  —  back  —  no,  not 
back,  but  to  the  reserve,"  said  Praskukhin,  looking  askance 
in  the  direction  of  the  enemy's  fires. 

Having  recognized  Praskiikhin,  dropping  his  hand,  and 
having  grasped  the  whole  matter,  Mikhaylov  gave  the 
order,  and  the  soldiers  of  the  battalion  began  to  stir,  to 
pick  up  their  muskets,  to  put  on  their  overcoats,  and  to 
move. 

He  who  has  not  experienced  it  cannot  form  an  idea  of 
the  pleasure  which  a  man  feels  when  he  leaves,  after  three 
hours  of  bombardment,  such  a  perilous  place  as  the  lodg- 
ments. In  these  three  hours  Mikhaylov  had  more  than 
once,  not  without  reason,  regarded  his  end  as  inevitable,  and 
he  had  become  accustomed  to  his  conviction  that  he  should 
certainly  be  killed,  and  that  he  no  longer  belonged  to  this 
world.  And  yet  it  cost  him  a  great  effort  to  keep  his 
legs  from  running,  when  he  left  the  lodgments  at  the 
head  of  his  company,  abreast  with  Praskukhin, 

364 


SEVASTOPOL  365 

"  Good-bye  ! "  said  to  him  a  major,  the  commander  of 
another  battalion  that  was  to  remain  in  the  lodgments, 
and  with  whom  he  had  shared  the  cheese,  while  sitting 
in  the  pit,  near  the  breastworks.  "  I  wish  you  a  happy 
journey ! " 

"  And  I  wish  you  luck  in  your  position.  It  seems,  it 
has  quieted  down  now." 

But  no  sooner  had  he  said  this  than  the  enemy,  evi- 
dently having  noticed  the  motion  in  the  lodgments,  began 
to  fire  oftener  and  oftener.  Our  men  began  to  return  the 
fire,  and  a  furious  cannonading  began  once  more.  The 
stars  were  shining  high,  but  not  brilliantly.  The  night 
was  pitch-dark ;  only  the  flashes  from  the  volleys  and 
the  exploding  bombs  momentarily  lighted  up  things.  The 
soldiers  walked  fast  in  silence,  and  involuntarily  raced  with 
each  other ;  between  the  uninterrupted  peals  of  the  can- 
nonade nothing  was  heard  but  the  even  sound  of  the  steps 
on  the  dry  road,  the  clattering  of  the  bayonets,  or  the 
sigh  and  prayer  of  some  soldier,  "  0  Lord,  0  Lord,  what  is 
this  ? "  Now  and  then  could  be  heard  the  groan  of  a 
wounded  man,  and  the  cries,  "  The  stretcher  ! "  (In  the 
company  which  Mikhaylov  commanded,  twenty-six  men 
were  put  out  of  action  by  one  artillery  fire.)  There  was 
a  flash  on  the  distant  gloomy  horizon,  the  sentry  cried 
from  the  bastion,  "  Can-non  ! "  and  a  ball,  whizzing  above 
the  company,  tore  up  the  ground  and  scattered  stones. 

"  The  devil  take  it !  How  slowly  they  are  walking," 
thought  Praskukhin,  continually  looking  back,  as  he 
walked  at  Mikhaylov's  side.  "  Truly,  I  had  better  run 
ahead.  I  have  transmitted  the  order  —  Still,  no ;  they 
might  later  say  that  I  am  a  coward !  Come  what  may,  I 
will  walk  with  them." 

"  Why  does  he  keep  at  my  side  ?  "  thought  Mikhaylov, 
for  his  part.  "  So  far  as  I  have  observed,  he  always  brings 
misfortune.     There  it  flies,  straight  upon  us,  it  seems." 

Having  made  a  few  hundred  steps,  they  stumbled  on 


366  SEVASTOPOL 

Kahigin,  who,  briskly  clattering  bis  sabre,  was  walking  to 
the  lodgments,  in  order  to  find  out,  by  the  general's  com- 
mand, how  the  works  were  proceeding  there.  But,  when 
he  met  Mikhaylov,  he  thought  that,  rather  than  go  him- 
self under  this  terrible  fire,  which,  besides,  he  had  not 
been  ordered  to  do,  he  would  get  the  details  from  an  offi- 
cer who  had  been  there.  Indeed,  Mikhaylov  told  him 
everything  about  the  works.  Having  walked  a  short  dis- 
tance with  him,  Kaliigin  turned  into  the  trench  which 
led  to  the  blindage. 

"  Well,  what  is  the  news  ? "  asked  an  officer  who  was 
sitting  all  alone  in  the  room,  at  supper. 

"  Nothing.  It  seems,  there  will  be  no  further  engage- 
ment." 

"How  not?  On  the  contrary,  the  general  has  just 
gone  once  more  to  the  watch-tower.  Another  regiment 
has  come.  There  it  is  —  you  hear?  Again  the  mus- 
ketry fire.  Don't  go.  Why  should  you  ? "  added  the 
officer,  noticing  the  motion  which  Kahigin  had  made. 

"  By  rights  I  ought  certainly  to  be  there,"  thought  Kahi- 
gin, "  but  I  have  to-day  exposed  myself  enough  to  danger  ; 
it  is  a  terrible  fire." 

"  That's  so,  I  will  wait  for  them  here,"  he  said. 

And,  indeed,  some  twenty  minutes  later  the  general 
returned  with  the  officers  who  were  about  him ;  among 
them  was  also  Yunker  Baron  Pest,  but  not  Praskiikhin. 
The  attack  had  been  repulsed,  and  the  lodgments  were 
occupied  by  us. 

Having  received  the  exact  information,  Kalugin  walked 
away  with  Pest  from  the  blindage. 


XI. 

"  YouK  overcoat  is  bloody ;  have  you  really  taken  part 
in  the  hand-to-hand  fight?"  Kaliigiu  asked  him. 

"  Oh,  it  is  terrible  !     Just  imagine  —  " 

And  Pest  began  to  tell  how  he  had  led  his  company, 
how  the  commander  of  the  company  had  been  killed,  how 
he  had  stabbed  a  Frenchman,  and  how  the  affair  would 
have  been  lost,  if  it  had  not  been  for  him. 

The  foundation  for  the  story,  that  the  commander  of 
the  company  had  been  killed,  and  that  Pest  himself  had 
killed  a  Frenchman,  was  true ;  but,  in  giving  the  details, 
the  yunker  was  drawing  on  his  imagination  and  bragging. 

He  was  involuntarily  bragging,  because  during  the 
whole  action  he  was  moving  in  such  a  mist  and  oblivion 
that  everything  which  had  occurred  seemed  to  him  to 
have  occurred  somewhere,  at  some  time,  and  with  some- 
body. He  very  naturally  tried  to  reconstruct  these 
details  advantageously  to  himself.  This  is  the  way  it 
really  happened : 

The  battahon  to  which  the  yunker  had  been  detailed 
for  the  sortie  had  been  for  a  couple  of  hours  under  fire 
near  a  wall;  then  the  commander  of  the  battalion  in 
front  said  something,  —  the  commanders  of  the  companies 
began  to  stir,  the  battahon  moved,  emerged  from  behind 
the  breastworks,  and,  having  walked  about  one  hundred 
paces,  stopped,  and  drew  up  in  company  columns.  Pest 
was  ordered  to  take  up  a  position  on  the  right  flank  of 
the  second  company. 

Without  being  able  to  give  himself  an  account  where 
367 


368  SEVASTOPOL 

he  was,  or  why,  the  yunker  took  up  his  position,  and, 
with  bated  breath  and  with  a  cold  chill  running  down  his 
spine,  unconsciously  gazed  into  the  distance  ahead  of  him, 
expecting  something  terrible  to  happen.  However,  he 
did  not  feel  so  frightened,  for  there  was  no  firing  then, 
but  he  felt  strange  and  queer,  when  he  reflected  that  he 
was  outside  the  fortress,  in  the  field.  Again  the  com- 
mander of  the  battalion  in  front  said  something.  Again 
the  officers  uttered  something  in  whispers,  as  they  com- 
municated their  orders,  and  the  black  wall  of  the  first 
company  suddenly  crouched.  The  order  was  given  to 
he  down  flat.  The  second  company,  too,  lay  down,  and 
Pest,  in  getting  down,  pricked  his  hand  against  some 
thorny  plant.  The  commander  of  the  second  company 
was  the  only  one  who  did  not  lie  down.  His  short  figure, 
with  the  unsheathed  sword,  which  he  kept  waving,  moved 
up  and  down  in  front  of  the  company,  talking  all  the  time. 

"  Boys !  Show  yourselves  brave  fellows,  I  tell  you  ! 
Don't  fire  your  guns,  but  run  the  canaille  down  with 
your  bayonets  !  When  I  shout  '  Hurrah  ! '  you  after  me, 
and  no  standing  back  —  The  main  thing  is  —  all  as  one 
—  we  will  give  a  good  account  of  ourselves,  we  won't 
bungle  !     Hey,  boys  ?     For  the  Tsar,  our  father  !  " 

"  What  is  the  name  of  the  commander  of  your  com- 
pany ? "  Pest  asked  a  yunker  who  was  lying  abreast 
with  him.     "  What  a  brave  fellow  ! " 

"Yes,  as  always  before  an  action  — "  answered  the 
yunker.     "  His  name  is  Lisinkdvski." 

At  this  moment,  there  was  a  sudden  flash  right  in 
front  of  the  company ;  there  was  a  terrible  roar  which 
deafened  the  whole  company  ;  high  up  in  the  air  stones 
and  splinters  rustled  (it  was  at  least  fifty  seconds  later 
that  a  stone  fell  from  above  and  broke  a  soldier's  leg).  It 
was  a  bomb  from  an  elevation  gun,  and  the  fact  that  it 
struck  the  company  proved  that  the  French  had  observed 
the  column. 


SEVASTOPOL  369 

"  Go  ahead  with  your  bombs  !  Just  let  us  get  at  you, 
and  you  will  feel  the  three-edged  Eussian  bayonet,  accursed 
one ! "  cried  the  commander  of  the  company,  so  loud  that 
the  commander  of  the  battalion  was  compelled  to  order 
him  to  keep  quiet  and  be  less  noisy. 

Immediately  after  this,  the  first  company  rose,  and 
then  the  second.  They  were  ordered  to  fix  their  bayonets, 
and  the  battalion  advanced.  Pest  was  so  terrified  that  he 
was  absolutely  unconscious  of  time  and  place,  and  of  what 
was  going  on.  He  moved  hke  a  drunken  man.  Then 
suddenly  a  million  fires  flashed  on  all  sides,  and  there  was 
a  ping  and  a  crash.  He  shouted  and  ran  somewhere,  be- 
cause everybody  else  was  running  and  shouting.  Then 
he  stumbled  and  fell  down  on  something.  It  was  the 
commander  of  the  company,  who  had  been  wounded  at 
the  head  of  his  company,  and  who  seized  the  yunker's 
leg,  taking  him  for  a  Frenchman.  Then  when  he  had 
torn  his  leg  away  and  had  got  up,  a  man  reeled  back 
against  him  and  almost  knocked  him  down  once  more ; 
another  man  cried,  "  Stab  him !  What  are  you  gazing 
at  ? "  Somebody  took  the  gun,  and  ran  the  bayonet 
through  something  soft.  "  Ah  Dicu  ! "  somebody  cried 
in  a  terrible,  penetrating  voice,  and  it  was  only  then  that 
Pest  comprehended  that  he  had  transfixed  a  Frenchman. 
Cold  sweat  stood  out  on  his  body,  he  shuddered,  as  in  an 
ague,  and  he  threw  down  the  gun.  But  this  lasted  but  a 
moment ;  it  immediately  occurred  to  him  that  he  was 
a  hero.  He  grasped  his  gun,  and,  crying  "  Hurrah  ! "  ran 
with  the  throng  away  from  the  killed  Frenchman.  After 
running  some  twenty  paces,  he  arrived  at  the  trench. 
There  were  our  men  and  the  commander  of  the  battalion. 

"  I  have  stabbed  one ! "  he  said  to  the  commander  of 
the  battalion. 

"  You  are  a  brave  fellow,  baron  ! " 


XII. 

"  Do  you  know,  Praskiikhin  has  been  killed,"  said  Pest, 
accompanying  Kaliigin,  who  was  going  home. 

"  Impossible ! " 

"  Most  certainly.     I  have  seen  him  myself." 

"  Good-bye  !     I  must  hurry." 

"I  am  well  satisfied,"  thought  Kaliigin,  on  his  way 
back.  "  For  the  first  time  a  bit  of  luck,  while  I  am  the 
officer  of  the  day.  It  is  a  fine  afi'air !  I  am  alive  and 
hale ;  there  will  be  a  fine  report,  and  I  shall  assuredly  get 
a  gold  sword.     And  I  deserve  it." 

Having  reported  to  the  general  all  that  was  necessary, 
he  went  to  his  room,  to  which  Prince  Galtsiu  had  re- 
turned long  ago,  in  expectation  of  him  ;  he  was  reading  a 
book  which  he  had  found  on  Kalugin's  table. 

It  gave  Kaliigin  remarkable  pleasure  to  feel  himself 
at  home  and  out  of  danger.  Having  donned  his  night- 
gown and  lain  down  on  the  bed,  he  told  Galtsin  all  the 
particulars  of  the  engagement,  narrating  them,  naturally, 
from  a  point  of  view  from  which  these  details  would 
prove  that  he,  Kaliigin,  was  a  very  fine  and  brave  officer ; 
this,  it  seems  to  me,  it  was  superfluous  to  hint  at,  because 
all  knew  that  anyway,  and  had  no  right  and  no  cause  to 
doubt  it,  unless,  perhaps,  the  deceased  Captain  Praskiikhin, 
who,  though  he  had  regarded  it  as  a  privilege  to  link 
arms  with  Kaliigin,  had  only  the  day  before  told  a  friend 
of  his  in  secret  that  Kaliigin  was  a  nice  man,  but  that, 
between  you  and  me,  he  hated  dreadfully  to  go  to  the 
bastions. 

370 


SEVASTOPOL  371 

Praskiikhin,  who  was  walking  abreast  with  Mikhaylov, 
had  just  left  Kalugin,  and  was  beginning  to  revive  a 
little,  as  he  approached  a  less  dangerous  spot,  when  he 
saw  a  flash  gleaming  brightly  behind  him,  and  heard  the 
shout  of  the  sentry, "  Mortar  ! "  and  the  words  of  one  of 
the  soldiers  walking  behind,  "  It  will  fly  straight  to  the 
bastion ! " 

Mikhaylov  looked  back.  The  bright  point  of  the  bomb 
had  just  stopped  in  his  zenith,  when  by  its  position  it  was 
impossible  to  determine  its  direction.  But  this  lasted 
only  a  moment :  faster  and  faster,  nearer  and  nearer,  so 
that  the  sparks  of  the  fuse  could  be  seen  and  the  fatal 
whistling  could  be  heard,  the  bomb  was  setthng  down 
straight  over  the  battalion. 

"  Lie  down,"  cried  somebody's  voice. 

Mikhaylov  and  Praskukhin  lay  down  on  the  ground. 
Praskukhin  closed  his  eyes  and  only  heard  the  bomb's 
thud  against  the  hard  earth  near  by.  A  second  passed, 
—  it  seemed  an  hour,  —  and  the  bomb  did  not  explode. 
Praskukhin  was  frightened :  had  he  been  cowardly  for 
nothing  ?  Maybe  the  bomb  had  fallen  some  distance  off, 
and  he  only  imagined  that  the  fuse  was  hissing  near  him. 
He  opened  his  eyes,  and  it  gave  him  pleasure  to  see 
Mikhaylov  lying  near  his  very  feet,  motionless  on  the 
ground.  Just  then  his  eyes  for  a  moment  met  the  burn- 
ing fuse  of  the  bomb  spinning  around  within  three  feet 
from  him. 

Cold  terror,  which  excluded  all  other  thoughts  and 
feelings,  —  terror  seized  his  whole  being.  He  covered 
his  face  with  his  hands. 

Another  second  passed,  —  a  second  during  which  the 
whole  world  of  feeling,  thoughts,  hopes,  and  recollections 
flashed  through  his  imagination. 

"Whom  will  it  kill,  —  me  or  Mikhaylov?  or  both  of 
us  ?  And  if  me,  where  will  it  be  ?  In  the  head,  —  then 
all  is  ended  ;  but  if  in  the  leg,  they  will  amputate  it,  and 


372  SEVASTOPOL 

I  will  insist  on  their  giving  me  chloroform,  and  I  may 
still  live.  And,  maybe,  it  will  kill  only  Mikhaylov : 
then  I  will  tell  how  we  walked  abreast,  and  how  I  was 
bespattered  by  blood,  when  he  was  killed.  No,  it  is 
nearer  to  me  —  I  will  be  the  man  ! " 

Here  he  thought  of  the  twelve  roubles  which  he  was 
owing  Mikhaylov,  and  of  another  debt  in  St.  Petersburg, 
which  he  ought  to  have  paid  long  ago ;  the  gipsy  melody 
which  he  had  sung  the  night  before  passed  through  his 
mind.  The  woman  whom  he  had  loved  appeared  before 
his  imagination  in  a  cap  with  lilac  ribbons ;  he  recalled  a 
man  who  had  insulted  him  five  years  before,  and  whose 
insult  he  had  not  yet  avenged,  —  though  inseparably  from 
these  and  from  a  thousand  other  recollections,  the  feeling 
of  the  present,  the  expectation  of  death,  did  not  leave  him 
for  an  instant. 

"  Still  it  may  not  burst,"  he  thought,  and,  with  desper- 
ate determination,  wished  to  open  his  eyes.  But  at  this 
moment,  even  while  his  lids  were  closed,  his  eyes  were 
startled  by  a  red  fire ;  with  a  terrible  crash  something 
struck  his  chest ;  he  ran,  tripped  over  his  sabre,  which 
was  dangling  between  his  legs,  and  fell   on  his  side. 

"  Thank  God !  I  am  only  contused,"  was  his  first 
thought,  and  he  wanted  to  touch  his  breast  with  his 
hands ;  but  his  arms  felt  as  though  fettered,  and  his  head 
was  as  if  in  a  vise.  In  his  eyes  flashed  the  soldiers,  and 
unconsciously  he  counted  them :  "  One,  two,  three,  sol- 
diers ;  and  the  one  with  his  overcoat  rolled  under  him  is 
an  officer,"  he  thought.  Then  a  lightning  flashed  in  his 
eyes,  and  he  was  wondering  what  it  was  they  were  firing, 
—  a  mortar  or  a  cannon.  Then  they  fired  again ;  and 
there  were  more  soldiers :  five,  six,  seven  soldiers  passed 
by.  He  was  suddenly  horrified  at  the  thought  that  they 
might  crush  him.  He  wanted  to  cry  out  that  he  was 
bruised ;  but  his  mouth  was  so  parched  that  his  tongue 
cleaved  to  the  palate,  and  terrible  thirst  tormented  him. 


SEVASTOPOL  373 

He  felt  that  it  was  wet  near  his  breast ;  this  sensation  of 
wetness  reminded  him  of  water,  and  he  wanted  to  drink 
even  that  which  caused  that  moisture. 

"  I  must  have  abrased  the  flesh  as  I  fell,"  he  thought, 
and,  beginning  more  and  more  to  succumb  to  the  fear 
that  the  soldiers,  who  continued  flashing  past  him,  would 
crush  him,  he  collected  all  his  strength,  and  wanted  to 
shout,  "  Take  me  ! "  But  instead  of  this  he  groaned  so 
terribly  that  he  was  horrified  at  the  sound  he  himself 
made.  Then  some  red  fires  leaped  in  his  eyes,  —  and  he 
thought  that  the  soldiers  were  putting  rocks  on  him ;  the 
fires  leaped  about  ever  less  frequently,  and  the  rocks 
pressed  him  more  and  more.  He  made  an  effort  to  push 
aside  the  rocks,  and  he  no  longer  saw,  nor  heard,  nor 
thought,  nor  felt.  He  had  been  instantly  killed  by  a 
splinter  that  had  struck  his  chest. 


XIII. 

When  Mikhaylov  saw  the  bomb,  he  fell  to  the  ground, 
and  in  the  two  seconds  during  which  the  bomb  lay 
unexploded,  he,  like  Praskukhin,  thought  and  felt  im- 
measurably much.  He  mentally  prayed  to  God,  and 
kept  repeating,  "  Thy  will  be  done !  What  made  me  go 
into  military  service  ? "  and  at  the  same  time  he  thought : 
"  And  there  I  have  gone  over  to  the  infantry,  in  order  to 
take  part  in  the  campaign.  Would  it  not  have  been  better 
if  I  had  remained  in  the  regiment  of  uhlans  in  the  city 

of  T ,  and  passed  my  time  with  my  friend  Natasha  ? 

And  this  is  what  I  have  instead  ! "  And  he  began  to 
count :  "  One,  two,  three,  four,"  making  up  his  mind  that 
if  it  exploded  on  an  even  number,  he  would  live,  but  if 
on  an  uneven  number,  he  would  be  killed.  "Everything 
is  ended ;  I  am  killed,"  he  thought,  when  the  bomb  ex- 
ploded (he  forgot  whether  it  was  on  an  even  or  on  an  uneven 
number),  and  he  felt  a  blow  and  a  severe  pain  in  his 
head.  "  0  Lord,  forgive  me  my  sins  ! "  he  said,  swaying 
his  hands,  and  he  rose,  and  fell  down  senseless  on  his 
back. 

His  first  sensation,  when  he  awoke,  was  that  of  blood 
flowing  down  his  nose,  and  a  pain  in  his  head,  which  was 
growing  fainter.  "  My  soul  is  departing,"  he  thought, 
"  and  what  will  it  be  there  ?  0  Lord,  receive  my  soul 
in  peace  !  But  one  thing  is  strange,"  he  reflected  ;  "  namely, 
that,  dying,  I  so  clearly  hear  the  steps  of  the  soldiers,  and 
the  sounds  of  firing." 

374 


SEVASTOPOL  375 

"  A  stretcher,  ho,  there,  —  the  captain  has  been  killed  ! " 
cried  over  his  head  a  voice,  which  he  involuntarily  recog- 
nized as  that  of  his  drummer  Ignatev. 

Somebody  took  him  by  the  shoulders.  He  tried  to 
open  his  eyes,  and  saw  overhead  the  dark-blue  sky, 
groups  of  stars,  and  two  bombs  flying  above  him,  and 
overtaking  each  other ;  he  saw  Ignatev,  the  soldiers  with 
the  stretcher  and  their  guns,  the  rampart,  the  trenches, 
and  suddenly  persuaded  himself  that  he  was  not  yet  in 
the  other  world. 

He  was  lightly  wounded  in  the  head  by  a  stone.  His 
very  first  impression  was  like  regret :  he  had  so  well  and 
so  calmly  prepared  himself  for  his  transition  to  the 
other  world,  that  he  was  unpleasantly  affected  by  his 
return  to  reality,  with  its  bombs,  trenches,  and  blood ; 
his  second  impression  was  an  unconscious  joy  that  he 
was  alive,  and  his  third,  a  desire  to  get  away  from  the 
bastion  as  quickly  as  possible.  The  drummer  tied  his 
commander's  head  with  a  handkerchief,  and,  supporting 
him,  led  him  to  the  ambulance. 

"  Whither  am  I  going,  and  wherefore  ? "  thought  the 
staff-captain,  when  he  had  collected  his  senses  a  little. 
"  My  duty  is  to  stay  with  the  company,  and  not  to  go 
ahead,  the  more  so  since  the  company  will  soon  be  out  of 
the  firing  line,"  a  voice  whispered  to  him. 

"It  is  not  necessary,  my  friend,"  he  said,  pulling  his 
arm  away  from  the  obliging  drummer.  "  I  am  not  going 
to  the  ambulance ;  I  will  stay  with  the  company." 

And  he  turned  back. 

"  Your  Honour,  it  would  be  better  if  you  had  your 
wound  dressed  properly,"  said  Ignatev.  "  In  the  heat  of 
the  moment,  you  may  think  it  of  no  significance ;  and  it 
might  get  worse.  And  this  is  such  a  hot  place,  —  really, 
your  Honour ! " 

Mikhaylov  hesitated  for  a  moment,  and  would  have 
followed  Ignatev's  advice,  if  he  had  not  suddenly  thought 


376  SEVASTOPOL 

of  the  many  severely  wounded  at  the  ambulance.  "It 
may  be  the  doctors  will  only  laugh  at  my  scratch," 
thought  the  staff-captain,  and  resolutely,  in  spite  of  the 
drummer's  persuasion,  he  went  back  to  his  company. 

"  Where  is  Orderly  Praskiikhin,  who  was  walking  with 
me  ? "  he  asked  the  ensign  who  was  leading  the  company 
when  they  met. 

"  I  do  not  know  —  I  think  he  was  killed,"  the  ensign 
replied,  reluctantly. 

"  Killed  or  wounded  ?  How  is  it  you  do  not  know  ? 
Was  he  not  going  with  us  ?  And  why  did  you  not  take 
him  ? " 

"  There  was  no  time  for  that,  the  place  was  so  hot ! " 

"  How  could  you  do  it,  Mikhail  Ivanych  ? "  said 
Mikhaylov,  angrily.  "  How  could  you  abandon  him, 
if  he  was  alive ;  and  even  if  he  has  been  killed,  his 
body  ought  to  have  been  taken  along." 

"  How  can  he  be  alive,  when  I  tell  you  that  I  went  up 
myself  and  took  a  look  at  him  ! "  said  the  ensign.  "  Really, 
I  am  satisfied  if  I  can  get  my  men  away.  Look  at  the 
canaille  !  They  are  now  discharging  cannon-balls  at  us," 
he  added. 

Mikhaylov  sat  down,  and  clasped  his  head,  which 
began  to  pain  him  terribly  from  the  motion. 

"  No,  we  ought  to  go  down  and  fetch  him.  Maybe  he 
is  still  alive,"  said  Mikhaylov.  "  It  is  our  duty,  Mikhail 
Ivanych ! " 

Mikhail  Ivanych  made  no  reply. 

"  He  did  not  take  him  at  the  time,  and  now  I  must 
send  the  soldiers  by  themselves.  But  how  am  I  to  send 
them  ?  Under  this  terrible  fire  they  will  only  be  uselessly 
killed,"  thought  Mikhaylov. 

"  Boys  !  We  ought  to  go  back,  and  pick  up  the  officer 
who  lies  wounded  there  in  the  ditch,"  he  said,  neither 
very  loudly,  nor  imperatively,  for  he  felt  that  it  would 
be  disagreeable  for  the  soldiers  to  e?:eQUte  this  order,  — 


SEVASTOPOL  377 

and,  indeed,  since  he  did  not  address  any  one  in  particu- 
lar, no  one  stepped  forward  to  carry  it  out. 

"  On  the  other  hand,  he  may  be  dead,  and  then  it  is  not 
worth  while  to  subject  my  men  to  useless  danger ;  I  am 
the  only  one  to  be  blamed  for  having  neglected  him.  I 
will  go  there  myself,  and  find  out  whether  he  is  ahve. 
That  is  my  duty,"  said  Mikhaylov  to  himself. 

"  Mikhail  Ivanych !  you  lead  the  company,  and  I  will 
catch  up  with  you,"  he  said,  and,  raising  his  overcoat  with 
one  hand,  and  with  the  other  continually  fingering  the 
image  of  St.  Mitrofani,  in  whom  he  had  special  faith,  he 
ran  at  full  speed  up  the  trench. 

Having  convinced  himself  that  Praskilkhin  w^as  dead, 
Mikhaylov  dragged  himself  back,  breathing  heavily,  and 
holding  with  his  hand  the  loosened  bandage  and  his  head, 
which  now  began  to  pain  him  severely.  The  battalion 
was  already  in  its  place  at  the  foot  of  the  hill,  and  almost 
beyond  the  firing  line,  when  Mikhaylov  caught  up  with 
them.  I  say,  almost  beyond  the  firing  hue,  because  now 
and  then  a  stray  bomb  reached  even  this  place. 

"  To-morrow  I  must  go  down  to  the  ambulance  to 
register,"  thought  the  staff-captain,  while  the  surgeon's 
assistant  was  dressing  his  wound. 


XIV. 

Hundreds  of  blood-stained  bodies  of  men,  who  two 
hours  before  had  been  full  of  all  sorts  of  elevated  and 
petty  hopes  and  desires,  were  now  lying  with  stark  limbs 
on  the  dew-covered,  blooming  valley,  which  separated  the 
bastion  from  the  trench,  and  on  the  even  floor  of  the 
chapel  for  the  dead  in  Sevastopol ;  hundreds  of  men, 
with  curses  and  prayers  on  their  parched  lips,  were  creep- 
ing, rolling  around,  and  groaning,  some  between  the 
corpses  in  the  blooming  valley,  others  on  stretchers,  on 
cots,  and  on  the  blood-stained  floor  of  the  ambulance ! 
And  just  as  in  former  days  gleamed  the  morning  glow  over 
Mount  Sapun,  paled  the  twinkling  stars,  rose  a  white 
mist  from  the  dark,  roaring  sea,  crimsoned  the  dawn  in 
the  east,  scudded  the  long  purple  cloudlets  along  the 
bright  azure  horizon,  and  just  as  in  former  days  swam 
out  the  mighty,  beautiful  luminary,  portending  joy,  love, 
and  happiness  to  all  living  things. 


978 


XV. 

On  the  following  evening  the  music  of  the  chasseurs 
again  was  playing  in  the  boulevard,  and  again  officers, 
junkers,  soldiers,  and  young  women  strolled  leisurely 
near  the  pavilion,  and  along  the  lower  avenues  of  bloom- 
ing, fragrant  white  acacias. 

Kaliigin,  Prince  Galtsin,  and  a  colonel  were  walking 
with  linked  arms  near  the  pavilion,  and  discussing  the 
engagement  of  the  previous  night.  The  guiding  thread 
of  the  conversation  was,  as  it  always  is  in  similar  cases, 
not  the  engagement  itself,  but  the  part  which  each  had 
taken  in  the  engagement.  Their  faces  and  the  sounds  of 
their  voices  were  expressive  of  solemnity,  even  sadness, 
as  though  the  losses  of  the  day  before  powerfully  affected 
and  grieved  them ;  but  in  truth,  since  none  of  them  had 
lost  a  very  close  friend,  this  expression  of  sadness  was 
merely  of  an  official  nature,  a  something  which  they 
regarded  it  as  their  duty  to  evince.  On  the  contrary, 
Kaliigin  and  the  colonel  would  have  been  delighted  to 
see  such  an  engagement  every  day,  if  they  could  earn 
every  day  a  gold  sabre  and  a  major-generalship,  even 
though  they  were  very  nice  people.  I  like  to  hear  a 
conqueror,  who,  to  satisfy  his  ambition,  leads  millions  to 
destruction,  called  a  monster.  But  get  the  confession  of 
Ensign  Petrushov  and  of  Sub-Lieutenant  Antonov,  and 
so  forth ;  every  one  of  them  is  a  Napoleon  in  miniature, 
a  monster  in  miniature,  and  forthwith  ready  to  start  a 
battle,  to  kill  a  hundred  people,  merely  to  get  an  addi- 
tional star,  or  one-third  additional  pay. 

379 


380  SEVASTOPOL 

"  No,  you  must  pardon  me,"  said  the  colonel,  "  it  began 
at  first  on  the  left  flank.     I  was  there." 

"  Perhaps,"  replied  Kaliigin,  "  I  was  chiefly  in  the 
right  flank ;  I  went  there  twice :  once,  to  find  the  gen- 
eral, and  the  second  time,  for  no  special  reason,  just  to 
look  at  the  lodgments.     It  was  a  hot  place,  I  tell  you." 

"  I  am  sure  Kaliigin  knows,"  Prince  Galtsin  said  to  the 

colonel.     "  Do  you  know,  V told  me  to-day  about 

you.     He  said  you  were  a  gallant  officer." 

"  But  the  losses,  the  losses  were  terrible,"  said  the 
colonel.  "  In  my  regiment  four  hundred  men  were  put 
out  of  action.  I  marvel  how  it  is  I  got  away  from  there 
ahve." 

Just  then,  at  the  other  end  of  the  boulevard  and 
coming  toward  these  gentlemen,  appeared  the  form  of 
Mikhaylov  with   his  head   bandaged. 

"  Are  you  wounded,  captain  ?  "  said  Kaliigin. 

"  Yes,  a  little,  from  a  stone,"  answered  Mikhaylov. 

"  Est-ce  que  le  pavilion  est  haisse  deja  ?  "  asked  Prince 
Galtsin,  glancing  at  the  staff-captain's  cap,  and  addressing 
no  one  in  particular. 

"  Non,  pas  encore"  replied  Mikhaylov,  wishing  to  show 
that  he  knew  how  to  speak  French. 

"  Are  they  still  having  a  truce  ? "  said  Galtsin,  address- 
ing him  in  Ptussian,  as  much  as  to  say,  so  the  staff- 
captain  thought,  "  It  will,  no  doubt,  be  hard  for  you  to 
speak  French,  so  would  it  not  be  better  to  talk  to  you 
simply  ? "  And,  with  this,  the  adjutants  went  away  from 
him.  The  staff -captain  felt  exceedingly  lonely,  just  as  on 
the  day  before,  and,  exchanging  greetings  with  various 
gentlemen,  —  some  he  did  not  care  to  meet,  others  he 
could  not  make  up  his  mind  to  approach,  —  sat  down 
near  the  monument  of  Kazarski,  and  hghted  a  cigarette. 

Baron  Pest,  too,  came  to  the  boulevard.  He  said  that 
he  had  been  present  at  the  truce,  that  he  had  spoken 
with  some  French  officers,  and  that  one  French  officer  had 


SEVASTOPOL  381 

said  to  him,  "  If  it  had  been  dark  another  half-hour,  the 
lodgments  would  have  been  retaken,"  and  that  he  had 
answered  him,  "  Monsieur !  I  shall  not  deny  it,  in  order 
not  to  accuse  you  of  a  falsehood,"  and  how  well  that  was 
said,  and  so  on. 

In  reality,  though  he  had  been  present  at  the  truce,  he 
had  had  no  chance  to  say  there  anything  in  particular, 
no  matter  how  anxious  he  had  been  to  talk  to  the  French 
(for  it  is  so  jolly  to  talk  with  Frenchmen),  Yunker 
Baron  Pest  had  walked  up  and  down  the  line  for  quite 
awhile,  asking  the  Frenchmen  who  were  near  him,  "  Of 
what  regiment  are  you  ? "  to  which  they  answered  him, 
and  that  was  all.  But  when  he  went  a  little  too  far  into 
the  line,  a  French  sentry,  who  did  not  suspect  that  this 
soldier  knew  any  French,  cursed  him  in  the  third  person : 
"That  accursed  one  is  coming  to  look  at  our  works." 
Finding  nothing  of  interest  at  the  truce,  Yunker  Baron 
Pest  rode  home,  and  on  his  way  back  thought  out  the 
French  phrases  which  he  was  now  telling.  On  the  boule- 
vard were  also  Captain  Zotov,  who  was  talking  in  a  loud 
voice,  and  Captain  Obzhogov,  dishevelled  in  appearance, 
and  an  artillery  captain,  who  did  not  seek  anybody's 
favour,  and  a  yunker,  fortunate  in  love,  and  all  the  per- 
sons of  the  day  before,  and  all  of  them  with  the  same 
eternal  impulses.  There  was  only  lacking  Praskukhin, 
ISref(5rdov,  and  some  others,  whom  hardly  any  one  now 
remembered,  or  thought  of,  though  their  bodies  had  not 
yet  been  washed,  attired,  and  buried  in  the  ground. 


XVL 

In  our  bastion  and  in  the  French  trench  are  floating 
v/hite  flags,  and  between  them,  in  the  blooming  valley, 
lie  in  heaps,  without  boots,  in  gray  and  blue  uniforms,  the 
disfigured  corpses,  which  workmen  are  carrying  away  and 
placing  on  wagons.  The  odour  of  corpses  fills  the  air. 
From  Sevastopol  and  from  the  French  camp,  masses  of 
people  have  poured  out  to  behold  this  spectacle,  and  with 
eager  and  benign  curiosity  they  rush  toward  each  other. 

Let  us  hear  what  these  people  are  saying  one  to  an- 
other. 

Here,  in  a  circle  of  Eussians  and  Frenchmen,  who  have 
gathered  around  him,  a  youthful  officer,  speaking  poor 
though  intelligible  French,  is  looking  at  a  cartridge-box 
of  the  guards. 

"  What  is  this  bird  for  ?  " 

"Because  it  is  a  cartridge-box  of  a  regiment  of  the 
guards,  sir,  which  bears  the  imperial  eagle." 

"  And  are  you  of  the  guards  ? " 

"  Pardon,  sir,  I  am  of  the  sixth  of  the  Hue." 

"And  this  —  where  bought?"  asks  the  officer,  point- 
ing to  a  yellow,  wooden  cigar-holder,  in  which  the  French- 
man is  smoking  a  cigarette. 

"At  Balaklava,  sir!  It  is  not  much,  just  of  palm- 
wood." 

"  Pretty  ! "  says  the  officer,  being  guided  in  his  conver- 
sation, not  so  much  by  his  wishes,  as  by  the  words  which 
he  chances  to  know. 

382 


SEVASTOPOL  383 

"  If  you  will  have  the  kindness  to  keep  this  as  a 
memento  of  this  meeting,  you  will  oblige  me." 

And  the  polite  Frenchman  blows  out  the  cigarette,  and 
hands  the  cigar-holder  to  the  olhcer,  with  a  slight  bow. 
The  officer  gives  him  his,  and  all  persons  in  the  group, 
both  Frenchmen  and  Russians,  seem  to  be  very  much 
pleased,  and  smile. 

Then  a  dashing  infantryman,  in  pink  shirt,  and  overcoat 
hanging  over  his  shoulders,  in  company  with  other  sol- 
diers, who,  with  their  hands  behind  their  backs,  with 
merry,  curious  faces,  stand  behind  him,  walks  up  to 
a  Frenchman,  and  asks  for  a  hght  for  his  pipe.  The 
Frenchman  takes  a  few  puffs,  pokes  his  little  pipe,  and 
pours  some  burning  tobacco  on  the  Russian's. 

"  Tobacco  boun"  says  the  soldier  in  the  pink  shirt,  and 
the  spectators  smile. 

"  Yes,  good  tobacco,  Turkish  tobacco,"  says  the  French- 
man.    "  And  with  you,  Russian  tobacco  ?     Good  ? " 

"  Russian  boun,"  says  the  soldier  in  the  pink  shirt, 
whereat  the  crowd  roll  with  laughter.  "  French  not 
boun,  bon  jour,  moussie  ! "  says  the  soldier  in  the  pink 
shirt,  discharging  at  once  his  whole  supply  of  hnguistic 
knowledge,  and  tapping  the  Frenchman's  abdomen,  and 
all  laugh.     The  Frenchmen  laugh,  too. 

"  They  are  no  beauties,  those  stupid  Russians,"  says  a 
zouave  in  the  throng  of  Frenchmen. 

"  What  are  they  laughing  about  ? "  says  another,  a 
swarthy  fellow,  with  an  Italian  pronunciation,  coming  up 
to  our  soldiers. 

"  Caftan  boun,"  says  the  dashing  soldier,  examining  the 
embroidered  coat-skirts  of  the  zouave,  and  again  they 
laugh, 

"  Don't  walk  out  of  your  line,  back  to  your  places,  sacre 
nam  !  "  shouts  a  French  corporal,  and  the  soldiers  disperse 
in  obvious  displeasure. 

And  here,  in  a  circle  of  French  officers,  our  young 


384  SEVASTOPOL 

cavalry  officer  is  making  himself  conspicuous.  They  are 
talking  about  a  certain  Count  Sazouov,  "  whom  I  used  to 
know  well,  sir,"  says  a  French  officer  with  one  epaulet, 
"  he  is  one  of  those  real  Russian  counts,  such  as  we  love." 

"  There  is  a  Sazonov,  whom  I  used  to  know,"  says  the 
cavalryman,  "  but  he  is  no  count,  so  far  as  I  know.  He 
is  a  short,  dark-complexioned  man,  about  your  age." 

"  That's  it,  sir,  that's  he.  Oh,  how  I  would  like  to  see 
that  dear  count.  If  you  see  him,  please  give  him  my 
regards.     Captain  Latour,"  he  says,  bowing. 

"  Is  not  this  a  terrible  business  we  are  in  ?  It  was  hot 
work  last  night,  was  it  not  ? "  says  the  cavalryman,  trying 
to  keep  up  the  conversation,  and  pointing  to  the  dead 
bodies. 

"  Oh,  sir,  it  is  terrible !  But  what  brave  fellows  your 
soldiers  are,  what  brave  fellows !  It  is  a  pleasure  to  fight 
with  such  brave  soldiers." 

"  I  must  confess  yours  are  themselves  up  to  snuff,"  says 
the  cavalryman,  bowing,  and  imagining  that  he  is  a  really 
clever  fellow. 

Enough  of  that. 

Let  us  rather  look  at  this  ten-year-old  boy,  who,  in  an 
old  cap,  no  doubt  his  father's,  in  shoes  worn  on  bare  feet, 
and  in  nankeen  trousers,  held  up  by  one  suspender,  had 
gone  beyond  the  rampart  at  the  very  beginning  of  the 
truce,  and  has  all  the  time  been  walking  through 
the  ravine,  looking  with  dull  curiosity  at  the  French  and 
at  the  dead  bodies  lying  on  the  ground,  and  collecting 
wild  blue  flowers,  with  which  this  valley  is  strewn.  On 
his  way  home  with  a  large  nosegay,  he,  closing  his  nose 
against  the  odour  which  the  wind  is  wafting  to  him,  stops 
near  a  heap  of  piled  up  bodies,  and  for  a  long  time  gazes 
at  one  headless  corpse,  which  is  nearest  to  him.  After 
standing  for  awhile,  he  moves  up  and  touches  with  his 
foot  the  outstretched  stiff  arm  of  the  corpse.  The  hand 
shakes  a  little.     He  touches  it  a  second  time,  a  little 


I 


SEVASTOPOL  385 

more  boldly.  The  hand  shakes  again,  and  stops  in 
the  old  place.  The  boy  suddenly  shrieks,  hides  his 
face  in  the  flowers,  and  runs  away  to  the  fortress  at  full 
speed. 

Yes,  in  the  fortress  and  in  the  trench  float  white  flags  ; 
the  blooming  valley  is  filled  with  dead  bodies ;  the  fair  sun 
descends  toward  the  blue  sea ;  and  the  blue  sea,  billow- 
ing, glitters  under  the  golden  rays  of  the  sun.  Thousands 
of  people  are  crowding,  looking,  talking,  and  smiling  to 
each  other.  And  will  not  these  people,  —  these  Christians 
who  profess  one  great  religion  of  love  and  renunciation,  — 
seeing  what  they  have  done,  suddenly  kneel  down  in 
repentance  before  Him  who,  having  given  them  hfe,  has 
implanted  in  the  soul  of  every  one,  together  with  the  ter- 
ror of  death,  the  love  of  goodness  and  beauty  ?  And  will 
they  not  embrace  each  other  as  brothers,  with  tears  of  joy 
and  happiness  ?  The  white  flags  are  put  away,  and  again 
the  instruments  of  death  and  suffering  shriek,  again  flows 
innocent  blood,  and  are  heard  groans  and  curses. 

I  have  said  what  I  had  intended  to  say  this  time.  But 
I  am  assailed  by  heavy  doubt.  Perhaps  I  ought  not  to 
have  said  this ;  perhaps  that  which  I  have  said  belongs 
to  one  of  those  evil  truths  which,  lurking  unconsciously 
in  each  soul,  ought  not  to  be  proclaimed,  in  order  not  to 
become  noxious,  like  the  dregs  of  wine,  which  must  not 
be  shaken,  lest  it  be  spoiled. 

Where  is  the  expression  of  evil  which  one  must  avoid  ? 
Where  is  the  expression  of  goodness  in  this  narrative 
which  should  be  emulated  ?  Who  is  its  villain,  and  who 
its  hero  ?     All  are  good,  and  all  are  bad. 

Neither  Kaliigin,  with  his  brilliant  bravery,  hravoure  de 
gentilhomme,  and  his  vanity,  prime  mover  of  all  his 
actions,  nor  Praskukhin,  an  empty-headed,  harmless  man, 
though  fallen  on  the  field  of  battle  for  his  faith,  his  throne, 
and  his  country,  nor  Mikhaylov,  with  his  bashfulness,  nor 


386  SEVASTOPOL 

Pest,  a  child  without  firm  convictions  and  rules,  can  be 
the  villains  or  the  heroes  of  the  narrative. 

The  hero  of  my  narrative,  whom  I  love  with  all  the 
powers  of  my  soul,  whom  I  have  endeavoured  to  reproduce 
in  all  his  beauty,  and  who  has  always  been,  who  is,  and 
always  will  be  beautiful,  is  truth. 


IN    AUGUST,    185s 


Toward  the  end  of  August,  an  officer's  vehicle  (that 
pecuHar  vehicle,  not  to  be  met  with  elsewhere,  which 
forms  something  intermediate  between  a  Jewish  calash, 
a  Eussian  cart,  and  a  hamper-wagon)  was  driving  at  a 
walk  through  the  dense,  hot  dust  of  the  Sevastopol  high- 
way, which  runs  through  a  ravine  between  Duvauka  and 
Bakhchisaray. 

In  the  front  of  the  vehicle  squatted  an  orderly,  in  a 
nankeen  coat  and  what  had  formerly  been  an  officer's 
cap,  but  now  was  crushed  into  a  soft  shape,  pulling  at 
the  reins ;  behind,  on  bundles  and  bales  covered  with  a 
soldier's  mantle,  sat  an  infantry  officer  in  a  summer 
overcoat.  The  officer  was,  so  far  as  one  could  judge  of 
him  in  his  sitting  posture,  not  very  tall  of  stature,  but 
exceedingly  broad,  and  that  not  so  much  from  shoulder 
to  shoulder,  as  from  his  breast  to  his  back ;  he  was  broad 
and  stocky,  and  his  neck  and  nape  were  well  developed 
and  puffed  up.  A  waist,  that  is,  a  recess  in  the  middle 
of  his  body,  he  did  not  have,  nor  was  there  any  belly ;  on 
the  contrary,  he  was  rather  spare,  particularly  in  the  face, 
which  was  covered  by  an  unhealthy  sallow  sunburn.  His 
face  would  have  been  handsome  but  for  a  certain  bloated 
appearance  and  the  large  soft  wrinkles,  not  of  old  age, 

887 


388  SEVASTOPOL 

whicli  flowed  together  and  magnified  his  features,  and 
gave  the  whole  countenance  an  expression  of  staleness 
and  coarseness.  His  eyes  were  small,  hazel,  exceedingly 
vivacious,  even  bold ;  his  moustache  very  thick,  but  not 
broad,  and  gnawed  at  the  ends ;  and  his  cliin,  and  particu- 
larly his  cheeks,  were  covered  with  an  exceedingly  heavy, 
thick  black  beard  of  two  days'  standing. 

The  officer  had  been  wounded  on  the  10th  of  May  by 
a  splinter  in  his  head,  on  which  he  was  still  wearing 
a  bandage,  and  now,  having  felt  completely  well  for  a 
week,  he  was  returning  from  the  hospital  at  Simferopol 
to  his  regiment, ,  which  was  stationed  somewhere  in  the 
direction  from  which  the  firing  was  heard,  —  but  whether 
in  Sevastopol  itself,  on  the  Northern  side,  or  at  Inkermau, 
he  had  not  been  able  to  get  any  reliable  information. 

The  firing  was  heard  very  distinctly,  frequently,  and, 
it  seemed,  very  close,  particularly  whenever  the  moun- 
tains were  not  in  the  way,  or  the  wind  carried  the  sounds. 
Now  it  appeared  as  though  an  explosion  were  shaking 
the  whole  air,  and  causing  him  to  tremble  involuntarily ; 
now  less  loud  sounds  followed  each  other  in  rapid  suc- 
cession, like  the  roll  of  a  drum,  interrupted  now  and  then 
by  a  sharp  roar ;  or  everything  blended  into  crackhng 
peals,  resembling  the  thunderclaps,  when  the  storm  is  at 
its  worst,  and  the  rain  has  just  started  down  in  sheets. 
Everybody  was  saying  that  the  bombardment  was  terrible, 
and  so,  indeed,  it  appeared  from  the  sound. 

The  officer  urged  his  orderly  to  drive  faster :  he  evi- 
dently wanted  to  get  there  as  soon  as  possible.  On  the 
way  they  met  a  large  caravan  of  Russian  peasant  carts 
that  had  taken  provision  to  Sevastopol,  and  that  now 
were  returning,  loaded  with  sick  and  wounded  soldiers 
in  gray  overcoats,  sailors  in  black  cloaks,  volunteers 
in  red  fezes,  and  reserve  militiamen  with  beards.  The 
officer's  vehicle  was  compelled  to  stop  in  the  dense, 
immovable  cloud  of  dust  raised  by  the  caravan,  and  the 


1 


SEVASTOPOL  389 

officer,  blinking  and  scowling  from  the  dust  which  filled 
Ms  eyes  and  ears,  glanced  at  the  faces  of  the  sick  and  the 
wounded,  who  were  moving  past  him. 

"  That  feeble  soldier  is  from  our  company,"  said  the 
orderly,  turning  to  his  master,  and  pointing  to  a  cart 
filled  with  wounded  men,  which  had  just  come  abreast  of 
them. 

In  the  front  of  the  cart  sat  in  a  sideways  posture  a 
long-bearded  Paissian,  in  a  lambsldn  cap.  Holding  the 
butt  of  his  whip  with  his  elbow,  he  was  plaiting  the  lash. 
Behind  him  five  or  six  soldiers  were  jostled  in  all  kinds 
of  attitudes  in  the  bed  of  the  wagon.  One,  with  his  arm 
in  a  sling,  with  his  overcoat  thrown  over  his  shirt,  though 
pale  and  haggard,  was  sitting  upright  in  the  middle  of 
the  vehicle ;  he  put  his  hand  to  his  cap,  when  he  saw  the 
officer,  but,  evidently  recalling  that  he  was  wounded,  he 
pretended  to  be  scratchiug  his  head.  Another,  alongside 
him,  was  lyiug  in  the  bottom  of  the  cart ;  all  that  was 
visible  were  his  two  hands  with  which  he  held  on  to  the 
rounds  of  the  cart,  and  his  raised  knees  that  swayed  in 
all  directions  like  mops.  The  third,  with  a  bloated  face 
and  bandaged  head,  over  which  towered  a  soldier-cap, 
was  sitting  toward  one  side,  with  his  feet  dangling  down 
to  the  wheel,  and,  leaning  with  his  arms  on  his  knees, 
seemed  to  be  dozing.  It  was  to  him  that  the  travelhng 
officer  directed  his  speech. 

"  Dolzhnikov  ! "  he  cried. 

« I ! "  answered  the  soldier,  opening  his  eyes  and  doff- 
ing his  cap,  and  speaking  in  a  thick  staccato  bass,  as 
though  some  twenty  soldiers  were  shouting  all  at  once. 

"  When  were  you  wounded,  my  friend  ? " 

The  leaden,  suffused  eyes  of  the  soldier  became  ani- 
mated ;  he  had  obviously  recognized  his  officer. 

"  I  wish  you  health,  your  Honour ! "  he  uttered,  in  the 
same  staccato  bass. 

"  Where  is  the  regiment  stationed  now  ? " 


390  SEVASTOPOL 

"  They  were  standing  in  Sevastopol,  and  they  were  to 
move  on  Wednesday,  your  Honour." 

"  Whither  ? " 

"  I  don't  know  —  probably  on  the  Northern  side,  your 
Honour !  To-day,  your  Honour,"  he  added  in  a  drawl- 
ing voice,  putting  on  his  cap,  "  he  has  begun  to  shoot 
straight  across,  mostly  bombs,  and  they  are  carried  as 
far  as  the  bay ;  the  firing  is  awful  to-day,  and  —  " 

Further  it  was  not  possible  to  hear  what  the  soldier 
was  saying ;  but  by  his  face  and  pose  one  could  see  that 
he  was  telling  disheartening  things,  with  the  malice  of 
a  suffering  man. 

The  travelling  officer,  Lieutenant  Kozeltsov,  was  an 
officer  out  of  the  ordinary.  He  was  not  one  of  those 
who  live  so  or  so,  and  do  so  or  so,  because  others  are 
living  and  doing  so ;  he  did  everything  which  pleased 
him  best,  and  others  followed  his  example,  and  were 
convinced  that  it  was  good.  He  was  sufficiently  well 
endowed  by  nature  with  small  gifts :  he  sang  well,  played 
the  guitar,  spoke  fluently,  and  wrote  with  ease,  particu- 
larly government  documents,  in  which  he  had  acquired 
a  facility  while  being  an  adjutant  of  a  battalion ;  but 
most  noticeable  was  his  trait  of  egoistical  energy,  which, 
though  chiefly  based  on  his  petty  endowments,  was  in 
itself  a  well-defined  and  striking  feature.  He  was  pos- 
sessed of  the  egoism,  which  is  so  large  a  part  of  life 
itself  (and  which  is  most  frequently  evolved  in  exclu- 
sively masculine,  and  especially  in  military,  circles),  that 
he  could  not  comprehend  any  other  choice  but  to  lead 
or  to  be  annihilated,  and  that  his  egoism  was  even  the 
prime  mover  of  all  his  inward  convictions ;  he  naturally 
wanted  to  surpass  all  people  with  whom  he  compared 
himself. 

"  Of  course,  I  am  not  going  to  pay  any  attention  to  what 
Moscow  ^  is  prattling  !  "  muttered  the  lieutenant,  conscious 
1  So  the  common  soldiers  are  called  collectively. 


SEVASTOPOL  391 

of  a  burden  of  apathy  on  his  heart,  and  of  a  mistiness  of 
thoughts,  which  were  caused  by  the  aspect  of  the  convoy 
of  the  wounded  and  by  the  soldier's  words,  the  mean- 
ing of  which  was  invohmtarily  increased  and  confirmed 
by  the  sounds  of  the  bombardment.  "  Funny  Moscow ! 
Go,  Nikolaev  !  Move  on  —  Have  you  fallen  asleep  ? " 
he  added,  in  a  somewhat  angry  voice,  adjusting  the  folds 
of  his  overcoat. 

The  reins  began  to  be  pulled,  Nikolaev  smacked  his 
lips,  and  the  vehicle  started  at  a  gallop. 

"  We  will  stop  for  only  a  minute  to  feed  them,  and  we 
will  move  on  to-day,"  said  the  officer. 


I 


IL 

Just  as  he  was  driving  into  a  street  of  Duvanka, 
with  its  demoUshed  stone  walls  of  Tartar  houses,  Lieu- 
tenant Kozeltsdv  was  stopped  by  a  convoy  of  bombs  and 
cannon-balls,  on  its  way  to  Sevastopol,  and  crowded 
together  on  the  road. 

Two  infantrymen  were  sitting  in  the  dust  on  the 
stones  of  a  ruined  fence,  near  the  road,  and  eating  a 
watermelon  with  bread. 

"Are  you  going  far,  countryman?"  said  one  of  them, 
munching  his  bread,  to  a  soldier  with  a  small  bag  over 
his  shoulders,  who  had  stopped  near  them. 

"  I  am  on  my  way  to  the  company  from  the  provincial 
capital,"  answered  the  soldier,  looking  away  from  the 
melon,  and  adjusting  his  bag  on  his  back.  "  We  have 
been  for  nearly  three  weeks  looking  after  the  company's 
hay,  but  now  they  have  called  everybody  back;  and  it 
is  not  known  in  what  place  the  regiment  is  at  present. 
They  say  that  our  men  last  week  reheved  those  on  the 
Shipwharf.     Have  you  not  heard,  gentlemen  ? " 

"In  the  city,  brother,  in  the  city  it  is  stationed,"  said 
the  other  old  soldier  of  the  baggage-train,  who  was 
digging  with  his  clasp  knife  into  the  unripe,  white 
melon.  "  We  have  just  left  there  at  noon.  It  is  awful 
there,  brother ! " 

"  How  so,  gentlemen  ? " 

"  Don't  you  hear  them  ?  They  are  firing  all  around, 
so  that  there  is  not  a  place  safe.  It  is  impossible  to  tell 
how  many  of  our  brothers  they  have  killed ! " 

392 


SEVASTOPOL  393 

And  the  speaker  waved  his  hand  and  straightened 
his  cap. 

The  pedestrian  soldier  thoughtfully  shook  his  head, 
smacked  his  tongue,  then  took  out  of  his  boot-leg  a  pipe, 
without  filling  it,  poked  the  half-burned  tobacco,  lighted 
a  piece  of  punk  with  the  pipe  of  the  soldier  who  was 
smoking,  and  raised  his  cap. 

"  Only  God  can  help  us,  gentlemen  !  Good-bye  ! "  he 
said,  and,  adjusting  the  sack  on  his  back,  walked  up  the 
road. 

"  Ho  there,  wait  a  little ! "  persuasively  said  the  one 
who  was  digging  into  the  watermelon. 

"  It's  all  the  same  ! "  mumbled  the  pedestrian,  winding 
his  way  between  the  wheels  of  the  crowding  vehicles. 


III. 

The  station  was  filled  with  people  when  Kozeltsov 
drove  up  to  it.  The  first  person  whom  he  met  on  the 
porch  was  a  very  young,  haggard  man,  the  inspector,  who 
kept  exchanging  words  with  two  officers  following  at  his 
heels. 

"  You  will  wait  not  only  three  days,  but  even  ten 
days !  Generals  have  to  wait,  too,  sir ! "  said  the  in- 
spector, with  the  desire  to  sting  the  travellers.  "  You 
don't  expect  me  to  harness  myself  for  you  ! " 

"  Then  don't  give  anybody  any  horses,  if  there  are 
none !  Why  were  they  given  to  a  lackey  with  his 
things  ? "  cried  the  older  of  the  two  officers,  with  a  glass 
of  tea  in  his  hands,  and  apparently  avoiding  the  use  of 
the  personal  pronoun,  but  letting  him  feel  that  he  could 
have  used  "  thou  "  to  the  inspector  if  he  had  wanted. 

"  Now  you  judge  for  yourself,  Mr.  Inspector,"  said  the 
other,  the  younger  officer,  hesitatingly,  "  we  £re  not  travel- 
ling for  our  personal  pleasure.  No  doubt  we  are  wanted, 
if  we  have  been  ordered  out.  If  you  won't  let  us  have 
them,  I  will  write  to  the  general.  But  what  is  this  ?  — 
You,  it  seems,  do  not  resj^ect  the  officers'  calling." 

"  You  always  spoil  things ! "  the  older  officer  inter- 
rupted him.  "  You  are  only  in  my  way  ;  one  must  know 
how  to  talk  with  him.  Now  he  has  lost  his  respect  for 
us.     Give  us  horses  this  minute  !  "  I  say. 

"  Most  gladly,  sir,  but  where  shall  I  get  them  ?" 

The  inspector  kept  a  moment's  silence,  and  suddenly 
grew  excited,  and,  waving  his  hands,  began  to  speak : 

394 


SEVASTOPOL  396 

"  I  understand  it  all  and  know  it  all,  sir.  But  what 
are  you  going  to  do  ?  Give  me  only  "  (the  faces  of  the 
officers  were  lit  up  by  hope)  —  "  give  me  only  a  chance  to 
live  to  the  end  of  the  month,  and  I  will  no  longer  be 
here.  I  prefer  to  go  to  Mound  Malakhov,  than  to  stay 
here,  upon  my  word !  Let  them  do  what  they  please. 
In  the  whole  station  there  is  not  one  safe  vehicle,  and  the 
horses  have  not  had  a  bunch  of  hay  for  three  days." 

And  the  inspector  disappeared  through  the  gate. 

Kozeltsdv  entered  the  room  at  the  same  time  with  the 
officers. 

"  Well,"  the  older  officer  quietly  said  to  the  younger, 
though  but  a  second  before  he  had  seemed  to  be  excited, 
"  we  have  been  travelling  for  three  months,  so  we  will 
wait  a  little  longer.  No  great  misfortune,  —  we  shall  get 
there  early  enough." 

The  smoky,  dirty  room  was  so  crowded  v/ith  officers 
and  portmanteaus,  that  Kozeltsdv  barely  found  a  place  on 
the  window  to  sit  down.  Looking  at  the  officers'  coun- 
tenances, and  listening  to  their  conversations,  he  began  to 
roll  a  cigarette.  On  the  right  of  the  door,  near  a  crooked, 
greasy  table,  on  which  stood  two  samovars  with  the  brass 
turned  green  in  spots,  and  where  pieces  of  sugar  lay  on 
bits  of  paper,  sat  the  chief  group :  a  young  officer,  without 
moustache,  in  a  new  quilted  summer  coat,  was  filling  the 
teapot ;  four  officers  of  about  the  same  age  were  scattered 
in  the  different  corners  of  the  room.  One  of  these  slept 
on  the  divan,  having  rolled  up  his  fur  coat  under  his 
head ;  another,  who  stood  at  the  table,  was  carving  some 
roast  mutton  for  a  one-armed  officer  seated  there.  Two 
officers,  one  of  them  in  an  adjutant's  overcoat,  the  other 
in  an  infantry  overcoat,  but  one  of  fine  material,  and  with 
his  cartridge-box  slung  over  his  shoulder,  sat  near  the 
oven  bench ;  from  the  manner  in  which  both  looked  at 
the  others,  and  in  which  the  one  with  the  cartridge-box 
smoked  his  cigar,  it  was  evident  that  they  were  not  infan- 


096  SEVASTOPOL 

try  officers  at  the  front,  and  that  they  were  satisfied  with 
this.  It  cannot  be  said  that  their  manner  showed  con- 
tempt, but  a  certain  self-satisfied  composure,  based  partly 
on  their  wealth  and  partly  on  their  relations  with  gen- 
erals, —  a  consciousness  of  superiority,  rising  to  a  desire 
to  conceal  it. 

A  youthful,  thick-lipped  doctor  and  an  artillery  officer 
with  a  German  physiognomy  were  sitting  almost  on  the 
legs  of  the  young  officer  who  was  asleep  on  the  divan, 
and  were  counting  some  money.  Some  four  orderlies 
were  either  dozing,  or  attending  to  portmanteaus  and 
bundles  at  the  door.  Among  all  these  persons,  Kozeltsov 
did  not  find  a  single  acquaintance ;  but  he  began  atten- 
tively to  listen  to  their  conversations.  He  took  at  once  a 
Hking  for  the  young  officers,  who,  as  he  immediately 
decided  from  their  looks,  were  coming  directly  from  the 
corps,  and,  moreover,  they  reminded  him  that  his  brother, 
also  fresh  from  the  corps,  was  to  arrive  in  a  few  days  at 
one  of  the  batteries  of  Sevastopol.  But  in  the  officer  with 
the  cartridge-box,  whose  face  he  had  seen  somewhere, 
everything  seemed  to  him  disgusting  and  impudent.  He 
even  left  the  window  with  the  thought,  "I  will  settle 
him,  if  he  tries  to  say  anything,"  and  sat  down  on  the 
oven  bench.  Being  simply  a  good  officer  at  the  front,  he 
could  not,  as  a  general  rule,  bear  any  officers  of  the  staff, 
such  as  he  judged  at  first  glance  those  two  to  be. 


IV. 

"  But  this  is  dreadfully  annoying,"  said  one  of  the  young 
officers,  "  to  be  so  near,  and  yet  not  to  be  able  to  reach  it. 
There  may  be  an  engagement  to-day,  and  we  shall  not 
be  there." 

In  the  piping  tone  of  the  voice,  and  in  the  fresh, 
spotted  blush  which  covered  the  face  of  the  officer  while 
he  was  speaking,  one  could  see  the  refreshing,  youthful 
bashfulness  of  a  man  who  is  all  the  time  afraid  that  his 
words  are  not  properly  chosen. 

The  armless  officer  looked  at  him  with  a  smile. 

"  You  will  get  there  in  plenty  time,  believe  me,"  he 
said. 

The  young  officer  looked  respectfully  at  the  haggard 
face  of  the  armless  man,  which  was  unexpectedly  bright- 
ened by  a  smile,  and  he  grew  silent  and  busied  himself 
with  the  tea.  Indeed,  in  the  face  of  the  one-armed 
officer,  in  his  attitude,  and  especially  in  the  empty  sleeve 
of  his  overcoat,  was  expressed  much  of  that  calm  equa- 
nimity which  could  be  explained  by  the  assumption  that 
in  every  affair  and  conversation  he  looked  as  though  say- 
ing, "  All  this  is  very  beautiful,  all  this  I  know,  and  all 
this  I  could  do  myself  if  I  wanted  to." 

"  What,  then,  is  our  decision  ? "  again  said  the  young 
officer  to  his  companion  in  the  quilted  coat,  "  shall  we 
remain  here  overnight  or  shall  we  continue  travelHng 
with  our  horse  ? " 

His  companion  refused  to  continue  the  journey. 

"  Just  think  of  it,  captain,"  continued  the  one  who  was 

397 


398  SEVASTOPOL 

pouring  out  the  tea,  turning  to  the  armless  officer,  and 
lifting  up  the  knife  which  he  had  dropped,  "  they  told  us 
that  horses  were  dreadfully  expensive  at  Sevastopol,  and 
so  we  bought  a  horse  in  partnership  at  Simferopol." 

"  I  suppose  they  have  fleeced  you  for  it  ? " 

"  Eeally,  I  do  not  know,  captain.  We  paid  for  the  horse 
and  vehicle  ninety  roubles.  Is  that  very  dear  ?  "  he  added, 
turning  to  everybody  in  general  and  in  particular  to 
Kozeltsov,  who  was  watching  him. 

"  No,  not  dear,  if  it  is  a  young  horse,"  said  Kozeltsov. 

"  You  see !  And  they  told  us  that  it  was  too  dear  — 
He  is  a  little  lame  now,  but  that  will  pass.  We  were 
told  that  he  was  a  strong  horse." 

"  You  are  from  what  corps  ? "  asked  Kozeltsov,  wishing 
to  find  out  something  about  his  brother. 

"  We  are  from  the  yeomen's  regiment,  —  there  are  six 
of  us,  and  we  are  all  bound  for  Sevastopol,  at  our  own 
request,"  said  the  talkative  young  officer.  "  The  trouble 
is,  we  do  not  know  where  our  batteries  are ;  some  say,  at 
Sevastopol,  and  others  again  say,  at  Odessa." 

"  Could  you  not  have  found  out  at  Simferopol  ? "  asked 
Kozeltsov. 

"  They  did  not  know  —  Let  me  tell  you,  our  comrade 
went  there  to  the  chancery  ;  they  told  him  a  lot  of  rude 
things  —  you  can  imagine  how  disagreeable  that  is  — 
Would  you  wish  a  cigarette  all  rolled  up  ? "  he  said  to  the 
armless  officer,  who  was  on  the  point  of  getting  out  his 
cigarette-holder. 

He  was  attentive  to  him  with  a  certain  servile  enthu- 
siasm. 

"  Are  you  yourself  from  Sevastopol  ? "  he  continued. 
"0  Lord,  how  wonderful  all  this  is!  In  St.  Petersburg 
we  have  been  thinking  of  you,  of  all  the  heroes !"  he  said, 
turning  to  Kozeltsov  with  respect  and  kindhness. 

"  Well,  so  you  may  have  to  journey  back  again  ? " 
asked  the  ensign. 


SEVASTOPOL  399 

"  That  is  what  we  are  afraid  of.  You  may  imagine : 
we  have  bought  a  horse,  and  have  provided  ourselves 
with  all  necessaries,  —  a  coffee-pot  with  a  spirit-lamp,  and 
other  necessary  trifles,  —  and  now  we  have  no  money  left," 
he  said  in  a  quiet  voice,  looking  back  at  his  companion, 
"  so  that,  if  we  have  to  journey  back,  we  do  not  know 
what  to  do." 

"  Did  you  not  get  any  travelling  money  ?  "  asked  Kozel- 
tsov. 

"  No,"  he  answered  in  a  whisper,  "  but  we  were  promised 
that  we  should  get  it  here." 

"  Have  you  any  certificate  to  that  effect  ? " 

"  I  know  that  the  certificate  is  the  main  thing,  but 
there  is  a  senator  in  Moscow,  he  is  an  uncle  of  mine,  — 
and  when  I  called  at  his  house,  he  assured  me  that 
they  would  give  it  to  me  here,  or  else  I  should  have 
taken  some  from  him.     Will  they  give  it  ? " 

"  Certainly." 

"  I  myself  think  they  will,"  he  said,  in  a  tone  which 
proved  that,  having  asked  the  same  thing  at  thirty  sta- 
tions, and  having  received  all  kinds  of  answers,  he  no 
longer  had  any  full  confidence  in  anybody's  statement. 


V. 

"  Who  has  asked  for  beet-soup  ? "  rlemanded  the  slovenly 
landlady,  a  woman  about  forty  years  of  age,  entering  the 
room  with  a  soup-bowl. 

The  conversation  stopped  at  once,  and  all  the  persons 
in  the  room  gazed  at  the  landlady.  One  officer  even 
winked  to  another. 

"  Oh,  Kozeltsov  asked  for  it,"  said  the  young  officer. 
"  We  must  wake  him.  Get  up  and  eat ! "  he  said,  going 
up  to  the  one  who  was  sleeping  on  the  divan,  and  pushing 
him  by  the  shoulder. 

A  boy,  seventeen  years  of  age,  with  vivacious  black 
eyes  and  a  blush  covering  his  whole  cheek,  sprang  up 
energetically  from  the  divan,  and,  rubbing  his  eyes, 
stopped  in  the  middle  of  the  room. 

"  Oh,  pardon  me,"  he  said  to  the  doctor,  whom  he  had 
pushed  in  rising. 

Lieutenant  Kozeltsov  at  once  recognized  his  brother, 
and  went  up  to  him. 

"  Do  you  not  know  me  ? "  he  said,  smiling. 

"  Ah,  ah,  ah  !  "  cried  the  younger  brother,  beginning  to 
kiss  his  brother,  "  now  that  is  remarkable ! " 

They  kissed  three  times,  but  hesitated  on  the  third 
time,  as  though  both  were  struck  by  the  idea,  "Why 
exactly  three  times  ?  " 

"  Oh,  how  glad  I  am ! "  said  the  elder,  gazing  at  his 
brother.     "  Let  us  go  out  on  the  porch  and  talk  ! " 

"  Come,  come  !  I  do  not  want  any  soup  —  You  eat  it, 
F^derson  ! "  he  said  to  his  companion. 

400 


SEVASTOPOL  40] 

"  But  you  wanted  to  eat." 

"  I  do  not  want  anything." 

When  they  had  gone  out  on  the  porch,  the  younger 
brother  kept  asking,  "  Well,  tell  me  how  you  are,"  and 
kept  on  saying  how  glad  he  was  to  see  him,  hut  did  not 
tell  anything  about  himself. 

"  I  want  to  get  back  to  Sevastopol  as  soon  as  possible : 
if  one  has  luck,  one  can  advance  here  faster  than  in  the 
guards.  There  it  takes  ten  years  to  become  a  colonel,  and 
here  Totleben  was  promoted  in  two  years  from  lieutenant- 
colonel  to  general.  And  if  I  am  killed,  well,  what's  to 
be  done  ? " 

"  That's  the  kind  of  fellow  you  are ! "  said  his  brother, 
smiling. 

"  Really,  do  you  know,  brother  ? "  said  the  younger, 
smiling  and  blushing,  as  though  getting  ready  to  say 
something  disgraceful.  "  All  this  is  nothing.  The  chief 
reason  why  I  asked  to  be  sent  down  here  is,  I  was 
ashamed  to  stay  in  St.  Petersburg,  while  here  men  are 
dying  for  their  country.  And,  then,  I  wanted  to  be  with 
you,"  he  added,  more  bashfully  still. 

"  How  funny  you  are  !  "  said  the  elder  brother,  drawing 
out  his  cigarette-holder,  and  without  looking  at  him. 
"  What  a  pity,  we  shall  not  be  together." 

"  Now,  tell  me  truthfully,  is  it  terrible  in  the  bastions  ? " 
suddenly  asked  the  younger. 

"  At  first  it  is  terrible,  then  you  get  used  to  it,  and  it 
is  all  right.     You  will  see  for  yourself." 

"  Kow  tell  me  this :  will  they  take  Sevastopol  ?  I 
think  they  never  will." 

"  God  knows." 

"  Here  is  an  annoyance  —  Just  think  of  my  bad  luck ! 
On  the  road  they  stole  a  whole  bundle,  and  my  hat  was 
in  it,  so  that  I  am  now  in  a  terrible  fix,  and  do  not  know 
how  to  make  my  appearance." 

Kozeltsov  the  second,  Vladimir,  very  much  resembled 


402  SEVASTOrOL 

his  brother  Mikhaylo,  just  as  a  blooming  rose-bush  re- 
sembles a  defloured  brier.  His  hair,  too,  was  blond,  but 
thick  and  curling  over  the  temples.  On  his  white,  tender 
nape  there  was  a  small  blond  lock  —  a  sign  of  good  for- 
tune, as  the  nurses  say.  On  the  tender  white  skin  of  his 
cheeks  did  not  dwell,  but  burst  forth,  a  full-blooded,  youth- 
ful blush,  betraying  all  the  movements  of  his  soul.  His 
eyes,  although  like  his  brother's,  were  opener  and  brighter, 
which  was  the  more  apparent  because  they  were  covered 
by  a  light  tilm  of  moisture.  A  blond  down  was  sprouting 
on  his  cheeks  and  over  his  red  lips  that  folded  themselves 
into  a  bashful  smile,  or  displayed  his  white,  shining  teeth. 
Stately,  broad-shouldered,  in  his  unbuttoned  overcoat, 
underneath  which  could  be  seen  a  red  shirt  with  a  slant- 
ing collar,  with  a  cigarette  in  his  hand,  leaning  against 
the  balustrade  of  the  porch,  with  a  na'ive  joy  expressed 
in  his  face  and  gestures,  he  was  such  a  charming  boy,  as 
he  stood  before  his  brother,  that  he  could  stand  there  and 
look  at  him  for  a  long  time. 

He  was  very  happy  to  see  his  brother,  and  looked  at 
him  with  respect  and  pride,  thinking  of  him  as  a  hero ; 
but  in  some  respects,  namely,  in  worldly  knowledge,  in 
the  ability  of  speaking  French,  and  of  being  in  the  society 
of  distinguished  people,  of  dancing,  and  so  forth,  he  was 
a  httle  ashamed  of  him,  looked  down  upon  him,  and  even 
hoped  to  be  able  to  educate  him.  All  his  impressions 
were  fresh  from  St.  Petersburg,  from  the  house  of  a  lady 
who  was  fond  of  good-looking  fellows,  and  who  had  had 
him  at  her  house  during  the  holidays,  and  from  the  house 
of  the  Moscow  senator,  where  he  had  once  danced  at  a 
great  ball. 


VL 

Having  talked  their  fill,  and  having  finally  reached  a 
feehng,  frequently  experienced,  that  there  was  little  in 
common  between  them,  even  though  they  loved  each 
other,  the  brothers  remained  silent  for  quite  awhile. 

"  Take  your  things,  and  we  will  start  at  once,"  said  the 
elder  brother. 

The  younger  suddenly  blushed,  and  was  ill  at  ease. 

"  Straight  to  Sevastopol  ? "  he  asked,  after  a  moment's 
silence. 

"Why,  yes.  You  have  not  many  things;  I  suppose 
we  can  manage  them." 

"  Very  well !  We  will  start  at  once,"  said  the  younger, 
with  a  sigh,  and  entered  the  room. 

But,  before  opening  the  door,  he  stopped  in  the  vesti- 
bule, gloomily  hung  his  head,  and  began  to  think : 

"  At  once  straight  to  Sevastopol,  under  the  bombs  — 
terrible !  However,  it  is  all  the  same ;  sooner  or  later 
it  would  have  to  be.  Now,  at  least,  it  will  be  with 
brother  —  " 

The  trouble  was  that  only  now,  at  the  thought  that, 
after  seating  himself  in  the  vehicle,  he  would  not  get  out 
of  it  until  he  found  himself  in  Sevastopol,  and  that  no 
accident  whatsoever  could  detain  him,  did  he  form  for 
the  first  time  a  clear  conception  of  the  danger  which  he 
was  seeking,  and  he  was  disturbed  in  mind  at  the  mere 
thought  of  its  nearness.  Having  calmed  himself  a  little, 
he  entered  the  room ;  but  fifteen  minutes  passed,  and  he 
had  not  yet  come  out  to  his  brother,  so  that  the  latter 

403 


404  SEVASTOPOL 

finally  opened  the  door,  in  order  to  call  him.  The  younger 
Kozeltsov,  in  the  attitude  of  a  guilty  schoolboy,  was  speak- 
ing about  something  to  Officer  P .    When  the  brother 

opened  the  door,  he  looked  completely  lost. 

"  Directly,  directly ! "  he  said,  waving  his  hand  to  his 
brother.     "  Wait  there  a  moment,  if  you  please." 

A  minute  later  he  came  out,  and  went  up  to  his  brother 
■with  a  deep  sigh. 

"  Just  think  of  it,  I  cannot  journey  with  you,  brother," 
he  said. 

"  How  is  that  ?     What  nonsense  ! " 

"  I  will  tell  you  the  whole  truth,  Misha  1  We  are  all 
out  of  money,  and  we  all  owe  some  to  that  staff -captain 
whom  you  have  seen  in  there.     It  is  a  perfect  shame  ! " 

The  elder  brother  frowned,  and  for  a  long  time  did  not 
break  the  silence. 

"  Do  you  owe  much  ? "  he  asked,  looldng  at  his 
brother  with  a  scowl. 

"  Not  much,  not  very  much ;  but  it  makes  me  feel 
ashamed.  He  has  paid  for  me  at  three  stations,  and  it 
was  all  the  time  his  sugar  we  have  been  using  —  so  that 
I  do  not  know  —  and  we  have  been  playing  at  preference 
—  I  am  indebted  to  him  a  little." 

"  That  is  bad,  Volodya  !  What  would  you  have  done, 
if  you  had  not  met  me  ? "  the  elder  brother  said,  sternly, 
without  looking  at  him. 

"  Well,  I  thought  I  should  get  the  travelling  money  at 
Sevastopol,  and  so  I  should  pay  him  there.  I  certainly 
can  fix  it  that  way ;  and  so  it  will  be  better  if  I  journey 
with  him  to-morrow." 

The  elder  brother  drew  out  his  purse,  and  with  a  cer- 
tain quivering  in  his  fingers,  took  out  from  it  two  ten- 
rouble  and  one  three-rouble  bills. 

"Here  is  all  my  money,"  he  said.  "How  much  do 
you  owe  ? " 

When  Kozelts6v  said  that  this  was  all  his  money,  he 


SEVASTOPOL  405 

was  not  telling  the  whole  truth  ;  he  had  besides  four 
gold  coins  sewn  into  the  lining  of  the  coat  against  an 
evil  day,  but  he  had  vowed  that  he  would  never  touch 
them. 

It  turned  out  that  Kozeltsov  owed  in  all,  for  the  pref- 
erence and  for  the  sugar,  eight  roubles.  The  elder 
brother  gave  him  the  money,  remarking  at  the  same 
time  that  it  would  not  do  to  act  that  way,  and  especially 
to  play  at  preference. 

"  What  did  you  play  for  ? " 

The  younger  brother  did  not  answer  a  word.  His 
brother's  question  appeared  to  him  as  a  doubt  of  his 
honesty.  His  annoyance  with  himself,  his  shame  of 
his  action,  which  had  given  rise  to  such  suspicions,  and 
the  insult  from  his  brother,  whom  he  loved  so,  produced 
on  his  impressionable  nature  such  a  strong  and  morbid 
sensation,  that  he  did  not  make  any  reply.  Feeling  that 
he  would  not  be  able  to  keep  back  the  tearful  sounds 
which  were  rising  in  his  throat,  he  took  the  money,  with- 
out looking  at  it,  and  went  in  to  his  companions. 


VII. 

NiKOLAEV,  who  in  Duvanka  fortified  himself  with  two 
swallows  of  brandy,  purchased  from  a  soldier  selling  it 
on  the  bridge,  jerked  the  reins ;  the  vehicle  jolted  over 
the  rocky  and  occasionally  shaded  road  which  led  along 
the  Belbek  to  Sevastopol,  and  the  brothers,  whose  legs 
were  continually  striking  against  each  other,  kept  a  stub- 
born silence,  though  they  were  all  the  time  thinking  one 
of  the  other. 

"  Why  did  he  offend  me  ? "  thought  the  younger.  "  He 
might  have  passed  it  over  in  silence.  He  acted  as  though 
he  took  me  for  a  thief,  and  he  seems  to  be  angry  even 
now,  so  that  our  relations  will  for  ever  be  strained.  And 
how  glorious  it  could  otherwise  be  for  both  of  us  at  Sevas- 
topol !  Two  brothers,  friendly  to  each  other,  are  both 
tigliting  against  the  enemy  :  the  elder  brother,  though  not 
a  very  well  educated  man,  is  already  a  brave  soldier,  and 
the  younger  —  well,  he  is  a  valiant  fellow  himself  — 
In  a  week  I  should  prove  to  everybody's  satisfaction  that 
I  am  no  longer  so  very  young  !  I  will  quit  blushing ;  in 
my  face  will  be  expressed  bravery ;  and  by  that  time  my 
moustache,  though  not  very  long,  will  be  of  considerable 
size,"  and  he  pulled  the  down  which  had  appeared  at  the 
edges  of  his  mouth. 

"  Maybe  we  shall  arrive  to-day  to  take  part  at  once  in 
an  engagement,  both  my  brother  and  I.  He  must  be 
stubborn  and  brave,  one  of  those  who  do  not  talk  much, 
but  act  better  than  others.  I  should  like  to  know,"  he 
continued,  "  whether  he  is  jamming  me  into  the  edge  of 

406 


SEVASTOrOL  407 

the  vehicle  on  purpose,  or  not.  He,  no  doubt,  feels  that 
I  am  ill  at  ease,  and  looks  as  though  he  did  not  notice 
me.  We  shall  arrive  to-day,"  he  continued  his  reflections, 
keeping  to  the  edge  of  the  vehicle,  and  fearing  to  move, 
lest  his  brother  should  notice  that  he  was  ill  at  ease, 
"  and  we  shall  make  at  once  for  the  bastion ;  I  at  the 
guns,  and  my  brother  with  his  company,  and  we  shall 
march  together.  Suddenly  the  French  will  rush  upon 
us.  I  —  to  shoot,  and  shoot.  I  will  kill  a  lot  of  them  ; 
but  they  continue  to  press  forward.  There  is  no  chance 
of  firing,  and,  of  course,  there  is  no  salvation  for  me ;  but 
suddenly  brother  will  dash  ahead,  with  sabre  in  hand, 
and  I  will  seize  a  gun,  and  the  soldiers  will  run  with  us. 
The  French  will  rush  up  to  brother.  I  will  run  up,  will 
kill  one  Frenchman  and  another,  and  will  save  brother. 
I  shall  be  wounded  iu  one  arm,  so  will  seize  the  gun  with 
the  other,  and  will  still  run  forward.  Only  brother  will 
be  killed  by  a  bullet  at  my  side ;  I  will  stop  for  an 
instant,  will  look  sadly  at  him,  will  rise  to  my  feet,  and 
will  shout :  '  After  me !  Let  us  avenge  his  death !  I 
have  loved  my  brother  more  than  anybody  in  this  world,' 
I  wUl  say, '  and  T  have  lost  him.  Eevenge  !  Let  us  anni- 
hilate the  foe,  or  die  all  together ! ' 

"All  will  shout,  and  will  plunge  forward  after  me. 
The  whole  French  army  will  come  out,  and  Pelissier 
himself.  We  \\ill  destroy  them  all ;  but  I  am  wounded 
a  second,  and  a  third  time,  and  I  shall  fall  down  to  my 
death.  Then  everybody  will  run  up  to  me.  Gorchakov 
will  come,  and  will  ask  me  what  I  wish.  I  will  say  that 
I  have  no  other  wish  than  to  be  placed  by  my  brother's 
side,  and  that  I  want  to  die  with  him.  I  shall  be  carried 
and  put  down  near  the  blood-stained  body  of  my  brother. 
I  will  lift  myself  a  little,  and  say :  '  Yes,  you  were  unable 
properly  to  estimate  the  two  men  who  have  sincerely 
loved  their  country ;  now  they  have  both  fallen  —  may 
God  forgive  you ! '  and  I  shall  expire." 


408  SEVASTOPOL 

Who  knows  to  what  extent  these  dreams  might  be 
realized ! 

"  Have  you  ever  been  in  a  hand-to-hand  encounter  ? " 
he  suddenly  asked  his  brother,  forgetful  of  the  fact  that 
he  had  intended  not  to  speak  to  him. 

"  No,  not  once,"  answered  the  elder  brother.  "  In  our 
regiment  two  thousand  men  were  put  out  of  action  while 
at  work,  and  I,  too,  was  wounded  while  at  work.  War 
does  not  take  place  at  all  as  you  imagine  it,  Volodya ! " 

The  word  "Volodya"  touched  the  younger  brother: 
he  wanted  to  have  an  explanation  from  his  brother,  who 
did  not  have  the  slightest  idea  that  he  had  offended 
Volodya. 

"  You  are  not  angry  at  me,  Misha  ? "  he  asked,  after  a 
moment's  silence. 

"For  what?"  ■  •        . 

"  No,  nothing  —  that  there  has  been  —  oh,  nothing." 

"  Not  in  the  least,"  answered  the  elder  brother,  turning 
to  him,  and  slapping  his  leg. 

"Then  you  must  forgive  me,  Misha,  if  I  have  given 
you  cause  for  grief." 

And  the  younger  brother  turned  away,  in  order  to  con- 
ceal the  tears  that  suddenly  had  appeared  in  his  eyes. 


VTII. 

"  Is  it  possible  this  is  Sevastopol  already  ? "  asked  the 
youuger  brother,  as  the  vehicle  reached  the  top  of  a  hill. 

Before  them  lay  the  bay  with  the  masts  of  ships,  the 
sea  with  the  hostile  fleet  in  the  distance,  the  white  shore 
batteries,  the  barracks,  the  water-works,  the  docks,  the 
city  buildings,  and  the  pale  violet  clouds  of  smoke,  which 
were  continually  rising  along  the  yellow  hills  that  sur- 
rounded the  city,  and  that  stood  out  against  the  blue  sky, 
in  the  rosy  beams  of  the  sun,  which  now  was  brilliantly 
reflected  and  settiug  at  the  horizon  of  the  dark  sea. 

Volodya  beheld  without  shuddering  the  terrible  place 
of  which  he  had  been  thinking  so  much.  On  the  contrary, 
with  aesthetic  enjoyment  and  with  a  heroic  sensation  of 
self-satisfaction,  that  in  half  an  hour  he  himself  would  be 
there,  he  gazed  at  this  truly  enchanting  and  original 
spectacle,  and  he  continued  gazing  at  it  up  to  the  very 
time  when  they  arrived  at  the  Northern  side,  at  the 
baggage-train  of  his  brother's  regiment,  where  they  were 
to  get  definite  information  as  to  the  location  of  the 
regiment  and  battery. 

The  officer  in  charge  of  the  baggage-train  was  hving 
near  the  so-called  new  town,  —  a  collection  of  frame 
barracks,  built  by  sailor  families,  —  in  a  tent  which  was 
connected  with  a  fairly  large  booth,  constructed  of  green 
oak  boughs  that  had  not  yet  become  sufficiently  dry. 

The  brothers  found  the  officer  at  a  dirty  table,  on  which 
stood  a  glass  of  cold  tea,  a  salver  with  brandy  and  crumbs 
of  dry  caviar  and  bread,  clad  in  a  soiled  yellow  shut, 

409 


410  SEVASTOPOL 

counting  up  on  a  large  abacus  an  immense  heap  of  paper 
money.  But  before  saying  anything  about  the  personahty 
of  the  ofhcer  and  his  conversation,  we  must  take  a  closer 
look  at  the  interior  of  his  booth,  and  get  a  little  acquainted 
with  liis  manner  of  life  and  occupations. 

The  new  booth  was  large,  firmly  plaited,  and  comfort- 
ably constructed ;  it  was  provided  with  little  tables  and 
sod  benches,  and  was  altogether  such  as  are  built  only 
for  generals  or  regimental  commanders.  The  sides  and 
the  ceiling  were  protected  from  the  falling  leaves  by  three 
rugs  which,  though  of  atrocious  designs,  were  new  and, 
no  doubt,  expensive.  On  an  iron  bed  underneath  the 
main  rug,  with  the  representation  of  a  horsewoman  upon 
it,  lay  a  bright  red  plush  coverlet,  a  soiled  torn  pillow, 
and  a  raccoon  fur  coat ;  on  the  table  stood  a  looking-glass 
in  a  silver  frame,  a  terribly  dirty  silver  hairbrush,  a  broken 
horn  comb  full  of  greasy  hair,  a  silver  candlestick,  a  bottle 
of  liqueur  with  an  immense  label  in  red  and  gold,  a  gilded 
clock  with  the  portrait  of  Peter  the  Great,  two  gold  pens, 
a  box  with  some  kind  of  capsules,  a  bread  crust,  and  old 
cards  lying  in  a  heap,  while  under  the  bed  stood  empty 
and  full  bottles. 

This  officer  was  in  charge  of  the  regiment's  baggage 
and  of  the  provender  for  the  horses.  With  him  lived  his 
great  friend,  a  commissionaire,  who  was  interested  in 
some  speculations.  As  the  brothers  entered,  he  was 
asleep  in  the  tent,  while  the  officer  of  the  baggage-train 
was  counting  up  the  Crown  money  before  the  end  of  the 
mouth.  The  exterior  of  this  officer  was  handsome  and 
martial :  he  was  tall,  wore  a  long  moustache,  and  was  of 
noble  proportions.  His  disagreeable  points  were  a  certain 
sweaty  and  bloated  condition  of  his  face,  which  almost 
concealed  his  small  gray  eyes  (as  though  he  were  saturated 
with  porter),  and  an  extraordinary  neglect  of  his  person, 
from  his  greas^'-  hair  down  to  his  large  bare  feet  in  ermine- 
fur  slippers.  .     .     -  *      .      >-..,, 


SEVASTOPOL  411 

"What  a  lot  of   money!      What  a  lot  of  it!"   said. 
Kozeltsov  the  elder,  upon  entering  the  booth,  and  with 
involuntary  greed  directing  his  eyes  upon  the  heap  of 
bills.     "  If  you  lent  me  only  one-half  of  it,  Vasili  Mikhay- 
lovich ! " 

The  officer  stooped  a  little,  as  he  noticed  the  new- 
comers, and,  collecting  his  money,  bowed,  without  rising. 

"  Ah,  if  it  all  were  mine  !  But  it  is  Crown  money,  my 
friend  —  Who  is  this  with  you  ? "  he  said,  putting  the 
money  in  a  small  safe  which  was  standing  near  him,  and 
eyeing  Volddya. 

"  That  is  my  brother,  who  has  come  from  the  corps. 
We  have  called  here  to  find  out  where  the  regiment  is 
stationed." 

"  Sit  down,  gentlemen  ! "  he  said,  rising,  and  walking 
into  the  tent,  without  paying  any  further  attention  to  the 
guests.  "  Won't  you  have  a  drink,  say  a  little  porter  ?  " 
he  said. 

"  It  won't  hurt,  Vasili  Mikhaylovich  ! " 

Volodya  was  impressed  by  the  magnificence  of  the 
officer  of  the  baggage-train,  by  his  nonchalant  manner, 
and  by  the  respect  with  which  his  brother  spoke  to  him. 

"  He  must  be  a  very  good  officer,  whom  all  respect :  no 
doubt  he  is  simple,  but  hospitable  and  brave,"  he  thought, 
modestly  and  timidly  sitting  down  on  the  divan. 

"  Where,  then,  is  our  regiment  stationed  ? "  the  elder 
brother  asked  across  the  tent. 

"  Wliat  ? " 

He  repeated  his  question. 

"  Zeyfer  was  here  to-day :  he  told  me  they  had  gone 
to  the  fifth  bastion." 

"  Sure  ? " 

"If  I  tell  you  so,  it  must  be  correct;  however,  the 
devil  take  him  !  It  would  not  be  much  for  him  to  tell 
a  lie.  Well,  will  you  have  some  porter  ? "  said  the  officer, 
still  staying  in  his  tent. 


412  SEVASTOPOL 

"  Very  well,  I  will  take  a  drink,"  said  Kozeltsdv. 

"  And  will  you  have  a  glass,  Osip  Ignatevich  ? "  con- 
tinued the  voice  in  the  tent,  evidently  addressing  the 
sleeping  coniniissiouaire.  "  Get  up :  it  is  now  nearly  five 
o'clock." 

"  Don't  bother  me  !  I  am  not  sleeping,"  replied 'a  thin, 
lazy  voice. 

"  Well,  get  up  anyway :  it  is  dull  without  you  ! " 

The  officer  of  the  baggage-train  came  back  to  his  guests. 

"  Let  us  have  some  Simferopol  porter ! "  he  shouted. 

An  orderly,  with  a  proud  expression  on  his  face,  so 
Volodya  thought,  entered  the  booth,  and,  pushing  Volddya 
aside,  fetched  a  bottle  of  porter  from  underneath  the  bench. 

The  bottle  was  soon  emptied,  and  the  conversation  was 
for  some  time  continued  in  the  same  strain,  when  the 
folds  of  the  tent  were  pushed  aside,  and  from  it  emerged 
a  short,  well-preserved  man,  in  a  blue  dressing-gown  with 
tassels,  in  a  cap  with  a  red  border  and  a  cockade.  Upon 
his  appearance  he  was  smoothing  down  his  moustache ; 
gazing  at  some  point  in  the  rug,  he  returned  the  salute 
of  the  officers  with  a  barely  perceptible  shrug  of  his 
shoulders. 

''  I  will  take  a  glass  myself ! "  he  said,  sitting  down  at 
the  table.  "  Are  you  coming  from  St.  Petersburg,  young 
man  ?  "  he  said,  graciously  addressing  Volddya. 

"  Yes,  sir,  I  am  on  my  way  to  Sevastopol." 

"  Did  you  volunteer  ? " 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Wliat  is  it  that  makes  you  so  anxious,  gentlemen  ? 
Really,  I  do  not  understand  it ! "  continued  the  commis- 
sionaire. "  It  seems  to  me  I  would  be  willing  to  walk 
back  to  St.  Petersburg,  if  they  would  only  let  me.  I  am 
tired  of  this  accursed  life,  upon  my  word  ! " 

"  What  are  you  lacking  here  ? "  said  the  elder  Kozeltsdv, 
addressing  him.  "  You,  certainly,  are  having  an  easy  time 
here!" 


SEVASTOPOL  413 

The  commissionaire  glanced  at  him,  and  turned  away. 

"  This  danger,  these  privations,  —  can't  get  anything," 
he  continued,  turning  to  Volodya.  "  What  makes  you  so 
anxious  ?  Gentlemen,  I  am  positively  unable  to  under- 
stand you !  If  there  were  any  advantage  from  it,  but 
thus !  Well,  what  good  is  there  in  your  being  made  a 
cripple  for  life  at  your  age  ? " 

"  Some  need  a  monetary  advantage,  and  others  serve 
for  honour's  sake,"  Kozeltsov  the  elder  again  put  in  his 
word. 

"  Can  honour  be  sweet  when  there's  nothing  to  eat  ? " 
said  the  commissionaire,  smiling  contemptously,  and  turn- 
ing to  the  officer  of  the  baggage-train,  who  also  smiled  at 
his  witticism.  "  Set  it  for  '  Lucia,'  and  we  will  listen,"  he 
said,  pointing  to  a  music-box.     "  I  like  it." 

"  Is  that  Vasili  Mikhaylovich  a  good  man  ?  "  Volodya 
asked  his  brother,  after  leaving  the  booth  at  dusk,  and 
proceeding  on  their  way  to  Sevastopol. 

"  Passable,  only  dreadfully  stingy  !  But  I  cannot  bear 
that  commissionaire.     I'll  knock  him  down  some  day." 


IX. 

VOLODYA  was  not  exactly  in  an  unhappy  frame  of 
mind  when  they  reached,  almost  at  night,  the  large 
bridge  across  the  harbour,  but  he  experienced  a  heavy 
sensation  in  his  heart.  Everything  he  had  heard  and 
seen  was  so  incompatible  with  his  past,  though  still 
recent,  impressions :  the  large,  bright,  parqueted  exami- 
nation hall,  the  good,  merry  voices,  and  the  laughter  of 
his  comrades,  the  new  uniform,  the  beloved  Tsar,  whom 
he  had  been  seeing  for  the  last  seven  years,  and  who, 
bidding  them  farewell,  had,  with  tears  in  his  eyes,  called 
them  his  children,  —  and  everything  he  now  saw  so 
little  resembled  his  fair,  rainbow-coloured,  magnanimous 
dreams ! 

"  So  here  we  are ! "  said  the  elder  brother,  upon  reach- 
ing the  Michael  battery,  and  climbing  out  of  the  vehicle. 
"  If  they  will  let  us  through  the  bridge,  we  will  go  at 
once  to  the  Nicholas  barracks.  You  will  stay  there  until 
morning,  and  I  will  go  at  once  to  the  regiment,  and 
find  out  where  your  battery  is  stationed,  and  in  the  morn- 
ing 1  will  come  for  you." 

"  What  for  ?  Let  us  go  together,"  said  Volodya.  "  I 
will  go  with  you  to  the  bastion.  I  shall  have  to  get  used 
to  it  sooner  or  later.     If  you  are  going  there,  I  can,  too." 

"  You  had  better  not  go." 

"  I  beg  you  ;  I  shall,  at  least,  find  out  how  —  " 

"  My  advice  is  not  to  go.     Still  —  " 

The  sky  was  clear  and  dark ;  the  stars  and  the  fires  of 
the  bombs  and  from  the  discharges,  continuously  in  mo- 

414 


SEVASTOPOL 


415 


tion,  were  already  gleaming  brightly  in  the  darkness. 
The  large  white  structure  of  the  battery  and  the  beginning 
of  the  bridge  rose  from  the  darkness.  The  discharges  of 
several  guns  and  the  explosions,  rapidly  following  each 
other  or  resounding  all  together  hterally  every  second, 
shook  the  air  ever  louder  and  more  distinctly.  Through 
this  roar  could  be  heard  the  gloomy  rumbling  of  the  sea, 
as  though  seconding  it.  The  brothers  went  up  to  the 
bridge.  A  reserve  soldier  struck  his  gun  against  his 
hand  in  an  awkward  manner,  and  shouted : 

"  Who  goes  there  ? " 

"  A  soldier." 

"  I  have  orders  not  to  let  any  one  through." 

"  But  we  must  be  there." 

"  Ask  the  ofhcer." 

The  officer,  who  was  dozing,  while  sitting  on  an  anchor, 
rose,  and  gave  the  order  to  let  them  through. 

"  You  may  go  there,  but  not  back.  Back  there !  I 
declare,  all  at  once ! "  he  shouted  to  the  regimental  vehi- 
cles, laden  to  the  top  with  gabions,  that  were  crowding  at 
the  entrance. 

Upon  descending  to  the  first  pontoon,  the  brothers  fell 
in  with  some  soldiers  who  were  returning  from  there,  and 
speaking  loudly. 

"  He  has  received  his  supply  of  ammunition,  and  so  he 
is  squaring  up  accounts,  —  that's  what  I  tell  you." 

"  My  friends ! "  said  another  voice,  "  as  soon  as  you 
crawl  out  on  the  Northern  side,  you  will  see  the  world 
again,  upon  my  word  !     The  air  is  different  there." 

"  Nonsense ! "  said  the  first.  "  The  other  day  an 
accursed  bomb  flew  as  far  as  this  and  took  off  the 
legs  of  two  sailors,  that's  wliat  — " 

The  brothers  passed  the  first  pontoon,  and,  waiting  for 
the  vehicle,  halted  at  the  second,  which  in  places  was 
already  swamped.  The  wind,  which  had  seemed  feeble 
on  land,  was  very  strong  here,  and  came  in  gusts;  the 


416 


SEVASTOPOL 


bridge  swayed  to  and  fro,  and  the  waves,  noisily  washing 
against  the  beams  and  breaking  against  the  moorings  and 
cables,  flooded  the  planks.  On  the  right  the  sea  roared 
and  darkled  in  a  hostile  mist,  separated  by  an  endless, 
even,  black  line  from  the  starry  heaven,  gleaming  pale 
gray  at  the  horizon ;  somewhere  in  the  distance  glimmered 
the  fires  on  the  hostile  fleet ;  on  the  left  rose  the  black 
mass  of  one  of  our  ships,  and  could  be  heard  the  plashing 
of  the  waves  against  its  hull;  one  could  see  a  steamer 
noisily  and  rapidly  moving  from  the  Northern  side.  The 
fire  of  a  bomb  exploding  in  its  neighbourhood  for  an  in- 
stant illuminated  the  gabions  heaped  high  on  its  deck,  two 
men  standing  on  the  bridge,  and  the  white  foam  and 
sprays  of  the  greenish  waves  through  which  the  steamer 
was  ploughing. 

At  the  edge  of  the  bridge  a  man  was  sitting  in  nothing 
but  a  shirt,  his  feet  dangling  in  the  water,  and  was  fixing 
something  in  the  pontoon.  In  front,  over  Sevastopol, 
were  borne  the  same  fires,  and  louder  and  louder  were  the 
sounds  that  reached  them.  A  surging  wave  from  the  sea 
washed  over  the  right  side  of  the  bridge  and  wet  Volodya's 
feet ;  two  soldiers,  splashing  their  feet  in  the  water,  passed 
by  him.  Suddenly  something  crashed  and  lighted  up  the 
bridge  in  front,  a  vehicle  that  was  going  over  it,  and  a 
man  on  horseback,  and  tlie  splinters  fell  into  the  water, 
whistling  and  raising  spray. 

"  Ah,  Mikhaylo  Sem(5nych  ! "  said  the  rider,  halting  his 
horse  in  front  of  the  elder  Kozeltsov.  "  Well,  have  you 
entirely  recuperated  ? " 

"  As  you  see.     Whither  does  God  carry  you  ? " 

"To  the  Northern  side,  for  cartridges.  I  am  to-day 
acting  regimental  adjutant  —  we  are  expecting  an  assault 
from  hour  to  hour." 

"  Wliere  is  Martsdv  ? " 

"  He  lost  a  leg  yesterday  —  he  was  in  town,  sleeping 
in  his  room  —      Do  you  know  him  ? " 


SEVASTOPOL  417 

"  The  regiment  is  in  the  fifth  bastion,  is  it  not  ? " 

"  Yes,  they  have  taken  the  place  of  the  M regi- 
ment. Go  to  the  ambulance ;  you  will  find  some  of  our 
men  there,  and  they  will  take  you  to  it." 

"  Well,  and  my  quarters  on  the  Morskaya  are  still  in 
good  condition  ? " 

"  Not  at  all,  my  dear !  It  has  long  ago  been  de- 
molished by  bombs.  You  will  not  recognize  Sevastopol 
now  :  not  a  woman,  no  inns,  no  music  there  now  ;  yester- 
day the  last  establishment  left.  It  is  very  sad  now  — 
Good-bye ! " 

And  the  officer  galloped  away. 

Yolodya  suddenly  felt  terribly :  he  thought  that  a  can- 
non-ball or  a  splinter  would  at  any  moment  strike  his 
head.  This  moist  darkness,  all  these  sounds,  especially 
the  growling  splash  of  the  waves,  —  everything  seemed 
to  tell  him  that  he  should  not  advance,  that  nothing  good 
awaited  him  now,  that  his  foot  would  never  again  step  on 
land  on  the  other  side  of  the  bay,  that  he  had  better  turn 
back  and  run  somewhere,  as  far  aw^ay  from  the  place  as 
possible.  "  But  maybe  it  is  already  too  late  ;  maybe  it  is 
my  fate,"  he  thought,  shuddering  partly  at  this  thought, 
and  partly  because  the  water  had  soaked  through  his 
boots,  and  was  wetting  his  feet. 

Yolodya  drew  a  deep  sigh,  and  walked  a  little  away,  at 
one  side  of  his  brother. 

"  O  Lord  !  Is  it  possible  I  shaU  be  killed  ?  I,  Yolodya 
Kozeltsov  ?  0  Lord,  have  mercy  upon  me  ! "  he  said,  in 
a  whisper,  making  the  sign  of  the  cross. 

"  Come  now,  Yolodya  ! "  said  the  elder  brother,  as  the 
vehicle  got  up  on  the  bridge.  "Have  you  seen  the 
bomb  ? " 

On  the  bridge  the  brothers  encountered  wagons  with 
wounded  men,  with  gabions,  and  one  with  furniture  which 
a  woman  was  taking  away.  On  the  other  side  nobody 
barred  their  way. 


418  SEVASTOPOL 

iDstinctively,  groping  along  the  wall  of  the  Nicholas 
battery,  the  brothers  listened  in  silence  to  the  sounds  of 
the  bombs  which  were  bursting  overhead  and  to  the  roar 
of  the  splinters  that  were  falling  from  above,  and  arrived 
at  that  place  in  the  battery  where  the  image  was.  Here 
they  learned  that  the  fifth  light  battery,  to  which  Vo- 
Iddya  had  been  assigned,  was  stationed  at  the  Shipwharf ; 
they  decided,  in  spite  of  the  danger,  to  go  for  the  night  to 
the  elder  brother's  station  in  the  fifth  bastion,  and  thence, 
on  the  following  morning,  to  the  battery.  Turning  into 
the  corridor,  and  stepping  over  the  legs  of  the  sleeping 
soldiers,  who  were  lying  along  the  whole  wall  of  the 
•battery,  they  finally  reached  the  ambulance. 


I 


X. 

Upon  entering  the  first  room,  filled  with  cots,  upon 
which  lay  the  wounded,  and  saturated  with  an  oppressive, 
disgustingly  terrible  hospital  odour,  they  met  two  Sisters 
of  Mercy,  who  were  walking  toward  them. 

One  woman,  about  fifty  years  of  age,  with  black  eyes 
and  a  severe  expression  on  her  face,  was  carrying  band- 
ages and  lint,  and  giving  orders  to  a  boyish  surgeon's 
assistant,  who  was  following  her  ;  the  other,  a  very  pretty 
girl,  about  twenty  years  of  age,  with  a  pale,  gentle,  fair- 
complexioned  face,  which  looked  sweet  and  helpless  from 
underneath  her  white  cap,  and  with  her  hands  in  the 
pockets  of  her  apron,  was  walking  by  the  side  of  the 
elder  woman,  apparently  afraid  to  leave  her. 

Kozeltsov  addressed  to  them  the  question  as  to  where 
Martsov  was,  who  had  lost  a  leg  the  day  before. 

"  I  think,  of  the  P regiment  ? "  asked  the  older 

woman.     "  Is  he  a  relative  of  yours  ? " 

"  No,  a  comrade." 

"  Take  them  there,"  she  said  to  the  young  Sister,  in 
French.  "  Over  there,"  and  she  herself  walked  over  to  a 
wounded  man  with  the  assistant. 

"  Come  now  —  what  are  you  gazing  at  ? "  said  Kozel- 
tsov to  Volddya,  who  had  raised  his  eyebrows  and  was 
staring  at  the  wounded  with  an  expression  of  compassion, 
without  being  able  to  tear  himself  away  fram  them. 
"  Come  on  ! " 

Volodya  followed  his  brother,  but  he  continued  to  look 
around  and  unconsciously  to  repeat : 

419 


420  SEVASTOPOL 

"OLord!     OLord!" 

"  He  has  evidently  not  been  here  long  ! "  said  the 
Sister  to  Kozeltsov,  pointing  to  Vol6dya,  who,  sighing  and 
repeating  his  exclamation,  followed  them  through  the 
corridor. 

"  He  has  just  arrived." 

The  pretty  sister  glanced  at  Volodya  and  suddenly 
burst  out  weeping.  "  My  God  !  My  God  !  When  will 
all  this  end  ?  "  she  said,  with  an  expression  of  despair  in 
her  voice.  They  entered  the  officer's  room.  Martsov 
lay  on  his  back,  holding  his  muscular  arms,  bared  up  to 
the  elbow,  behind  his  head,  with  an  expression  on  his 
sallow  face  which  showed  that  he  had  set  his  teeth,  in 
order  not  to  cry  from  pain.  His  sound  leg,  in  a  stocking, 
stuck  out  from  underneath  his  coverlet,  and  one  could 
see  how  he  was  convulsively  moving  his  toes. 

"  Well,  how  are  you  ? "  asked  the  Sister,  with  her  thin, 
gentle  fingers,  upon  one  of  which  Volodya  noticed  a  gold 
ring,  raising  his  somewhat  bald  head  and  fixing  the  pillow. 
"  Your  comrades  have  come  to  see  you." 

"  Of  course,  it  is  painful,"  he  said,  angrily.  "  Let  me 
alone  !  It  is  all  right."  The  toes  in  the  stocking  began  to 
twitch  faster.  "  How  are  you  ?  What  is  your  name  ? 
Pardon  me,"  he  said,  turning  to  Kozeltsov.  "  Oh,  yes ! 
I  beg  your  pardon !  '  One  does  forget  here  everything. 
We  did  hve  together,"  he  added,  without  the  least  expres- 
sion of  pleasure,  looking  questioningly  at  Volodya. 

"This  is  my  brother,  he  has  just  arrived  from  St. 
Petersburg." 

"  Hm  !  And  I  have  received  my  full  discharge,"  he 
said,  with  a  scowl.  "  Oh,  how  it  pains !  I  wish  I  were 
dead ! " 

He  raised  his  legs,  and,  continuing  to  twitch  his  toes 
with  increased  rapidity,  covered  his  face  with  his  hands. 

"  He  must  be  left  alone,"  the  Sister  said,  in  a  whisper, 
with  tears  in  her  eyes.     "  He  is  in  a  bad  condition." 


SEVASTOPOL  42 1 

The  brothers  had  decided  while  still  on  the  Northern 
side  to  go  to  the  fifth  bastion.  But,  as  they  emerged  from 
the  Nicholas  battery,  they  seemed  to  have  agreed  not  to 
subject  themselves  to  unnecessary  danger,  and,  without 
saying  anything  on  this  point,  they  decided  to  go  each 
his  own  way. 

«  But  how  will  you  find  it,  Volodya  ? "  said  the  elder 
brother.  "  Nikolaev  will  take  you  to  the  Shipwharf,  and 
I  will  go  by  myself,  and  will  be  with  you  to-morrow." 

Nothing  else  was  said  in  this  last  farewell  between  the 
two  brothers. 


XL 

The  booming  of  the  cannon  was  continued  with  the 
same  force,  but  the  Ekaterinenskaya  Street,  through  which 
Volodya  was  walking,  with  taciturn  Nikolaev  at  his  heels, 
was  deserted  and  quiet.  In  the  dusk  he  could  see  only 
the  broad  street,  with  the  white  walls  of  large  houses 
mostly  in  ruins,  and  the  stone  sidewalks,  over  which  he 
was  marching :  occasionally  he  met  some  soldiers  and 
officers.  Passing  on  the  left  side  by  the  Admiralty,  he 
could  discern,  in  the  glaring  fire  which  was  burning  beyond 
the  wall,  the  acacias  planted  along  the  sidewalk,  with 
their  green  supports,  and  the  wretched,  dust-covered 
leaves  of  these  trees.  He  distinctly  heard  his  steps  and 
those  of  Nikolaev,  who  was  walking  behind  him,  breath- 
ing heavily.  He  thought  of  nothing  in  particular :  the 
pretty  Sister  of  Mercy,  Martsov's  foot  with  its  toes  twitch- 
ing in  the  stocking,  the  bombs,  and  various  pictures  of 
death  dimly  passed  through  his  imagination.  All  his 
youthful,  impressionable  soul  was  compressed  and  pining 
under  the  consciousness  of  his  loneliness  and  of  the 
universal  indifference  to  his  fate  in  danger. 

"  I  shall  be  killed,  shall  suffer  and  writhe,  and  nobody 
will  weep  for  me ! "  And  all  this  in  place  of  the  life  of 
a  hero,  full  of  energy  and  sympathy,  of  which  he  had  had 
such  glorious  dreams.  The  bombs  exploded  and  whistled 
nearer  and  nearer  ;  Nikolaev  sighed  more  frequently,  with- 
out breaking  the  silence.  As  he  crossed  the  bridge,  which 
led  to  the  Shipwharf,  he  saw  something  strike  the  water 
not  far  from  him,  with  a  whistling  sound;  for  a  second 

422 


SEVASTOPOL  423 

it  cast  a  blood-red  glamour  on  the  violet  waves,  then  it 
disappeared,  and  again  rose  from  it  with  the  spray. 

"  I  declare,  she  is  not  dead  yet ! "  said  Nikolaev, 
hoarsely. 

"  Yes,"  he  answered,  involuntarily  and  unexpectedly  to 
himself,  in  a  thin,  piping  voice. 

They  encountered  stretchers  with  wounded  soldiers, 
and  again  regimental  carts  with  gabions ;  at  the  Ship- 
wharf  tliey  fell  in  with  a  regiment ;  horsemen  passed  by 
them.  One  of  them  was  an  officer,  with  a  Cossack.  He 
was  riding  at  a  gallop,  but  seeing  Volddya,  he  checked 
his  horse  near  him,  looked  into  his  face,  turned  away,  and 
rode  oif,  striking  his  horse  with  the  whip. 

"  Alone,  all  alone  !  It  makes  no  difference  to  anybody 
whether  I  exist  or  not,"  thought  the  boy,  and  he  wanted 
to  weep  in  earnest. 

Having  ascended  a  hill,  past  a  high,  white  wall,  he 
entered  a  street  of  demolished  little  cottages,  which  were 
constantly  illumiuated  by  bombs.  A  drunken,  slatternly 
woman,  wlio  came  out  of  a  gate  with  a  sailor,  stumbled 
upon  him. 

"  Because,  if  he  were  a  gentleman,"  she  mumbled, 
"  pardon,  your  Honour,  Mr.  Officer  ! " 

The  poor  boy's  heart  was  becoming  heavier  and  heavier ; 
lightnings  flashed  oftener  and  oftener  against  the  black 
horizon,  q,nd  bombs  oftener  and  oftener  whistled  and 
burst  about  him.  Nikolaev  sighed  and  suddenly  began 
to  speak,  in  what  appeared  to  Volodya  a  voice  of  restrained 
terror. 

"  There  we  were  in  a  hurry  to  leave  the  province. 
Journeying  all  the  time.     A  fine  place  to  hurry  to ! " 

"  Brother  is  well  now,"  replied  Volodya,  hoping  by 
a  conversation  to  dispel  the  terrible  feeling  which  had 
taken  possession  of  him. 

"  Well  ?  You  don't  call  him  w^ell,  do  you  ?  Even 
those  who  are  completely  well  had  better  stay  in  a  hos- 


424  SEVASTOPOL 

pital  at  such  a  time.  What  pleasure  is  there  to  be  found 
here  ?  A  man  loses  a  leg  or  an  arm,  that  is  all !  Mis- 
fortunes are  happening  here  all  the  time !  It  is  not  in 
the  city  here  as  in  the  bastiou,  but  it  is  bad  as  it  is.  You 
walk  and  you  say  your  prayers.  I  declare  that  beast  is 
whizzing  past  me,"  he  added,  listening  to  the  sound  of 
a  splinter  buzzing  past  him.  *'  Now,"  added  Nikolaev, 
"  I  am  told  to  accompany  your  Honour,  Of  course,  it  is 
our  duty  to  obey  orders ;  but  we  have  left  our  cart  with 
a  soldier,  and  a  bundle  is  open  —  Go,  accompany  him  ! 
And  if  anytliiug  is  lost  of  the  property,  Nikolaev  will  be 
responsible." 

After  taking  a  few  more  steps,  they  emerged  in  a 
square.      Nikolaev  remained  silent,  and  sighed. 

"  There  your  artillery  is  stationed,  your  Honour ! "  he 
suddenly  said.      "  Ask  the  sentry  :  he  will  show  you." 

Volodya  took  a  few  more  steps  and  no  longer  heard 
the  sound  of  Nikolaev's  sighs. 

All  at  once  he  felt  liimself  completely,  absolutely,  alone. 
This  consciousness  of  loneliness  in  the  danger  preceding 
death,  as  it  seemed  to  him,  weighed  as  a  terribly  heavy, 
cold  stone  upon  his  heart.  He  stopped  in  the  middle  of 
the  square,  looked  around  him,  to  see  whether  anybody 
saw  him,  clasped  his  head,  and  in  terror  thought  and 
said  :  "  0  Lord  !  Am  I  indeed  a  coward,  a  contemptible, 
despicable,  low  coward  —  for  my  country,  for  the  Tsar, 
for  whom  I  had  but  lately  joyfully  dreamed  to  die  ?  No, 
I  am  an  unfortunate,  wretched  creature  ! "  And  Volodya, 
with  a  genuine  feeling  of  despair  and  disenchantment  in 
liimself,  asked  tlie  sentry  for  the  house  of  the  commander 
of  the  battery,  and  went  in  the  direction  pointed  out  to 
him. 


XII. 

The  dwelling  of  the  commander  of  the  battery,  which 
the  sentry  had  pointed  out  to  him,  was  a  small  house  of 
two  stories,  with  an  entrance  from  the  yard.  In  one  of 
the  windows,  pasted  over  with  paper,  glimmered  a  feeble 
candle-light.  The  orderly  sat  on  the  porch  and  smoked 
a  pipe.  He  went  in  to  report  to  the  commander  of  the 
battery,  and  led  Volodya  into  a  room.  In  the  room, 
between  two  windows,  beneath  a  broken  mirror,  stood 
a  table,  covered  with  official  papers,  a  few  chairs,  and  an 
iron  bed  with  clean  bedclothes,  and  a  small  rug  near  it. 

At  the  very  door  stood  a  handsome  man  with  a  long 
moustache,  a  sergeant,  with  his  short  sword  and  clad  in 
his  overcoat,  on  which  hung  a  cross  and  a  Hungarian 
medal.  In  the  middle  of  the  room  paced  an  undersized 
officer  of  the  staff,  about  forty  years  of  age,  his  swollen 
cheek  wrapped  up,  wearing  an  old,  thin  overcoat. 

"  I  have  the  honour  of  presenting  myself,  Ensign  Ko- 
zeltsov  the  second,  ordered  to  report  at  the  fifth  light 
battery,"  Volodya  uttered  the  phrase  which  he  had  learned 
by  rote,  upon  entering  the  room. 

The  commander  of  the  battery  dryly  returned  his 
salute,  and,  without  offering  him  his  hand,  invited  him  to 
be  seated. 

Volodya  timidly  sat  down  on  the  chair  near  the  writing- 
desk,  and  began  to  finger  a  pair  of  scissors  on  which  he 
had  laid  his  hands.  The  commander  of  the  battery,  fold- 
ing his  hands  behind  his  back  aud  lowering  his  head, 
silently  paced  the  room,  with  the  expression  of  a  man  who 

425 


426  SEVASTOPOL 

is  trying  to  recollect  something,  and  now  and  then  looked 
at  the  hands  that  were  twirling  the  scissors. 

The  commander  of  the  battery  was  a  fairly  stout  man, 
with  a  large  bald  spot  on  the  crown  of  his  head,  a  thick 
moustache,  left  to  grow  at  will,  and  covering  his  mouth, 
and  pleasing  hazel  eyes.  His  hands  were  beautiful,  clean, 
and  plump ;  his  feet  were  small,  with  toes  well  turned 
out,  and  they  stepped  with  conviction  and  with  a  certain 
dandyism,  which  bore  evidence  that  the  commander  of 
the  battery  was  not  a  bashful  man. 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  stopping  in  front  of  the  sergeant,  "  be- 
ginning with  to-morrow  we  must  add  a  measure  of  grain 
for  each  horse  of  the  caisson,  for  they  are  looking  rather 
lean.     What  do  you  think  about  it  ? " 

"  Well,  we  can  add  it,  your  Honour  !  Oats  are  cheaper 
now,"  replied  the  sergeant,  moving  the  fingers  of  his 
hands,  which  he  held  straight  down  along  the  seams,  but 
which  he  evidently  was  fond  of  displaying  as  an  aid  to 
conversation.  "  Forager  Franchuk  brought  me  yesterday 
a  note  from  the  baggage-train,  your  Honour,  that  we  must 
buy  our  axles  there,  —  they  say  they  are  cheap.  So  what 
is  your  order  ? " 

"  Buy  them !  He  has  the  money."  And  the  com- 
mander of  the  battery  again  started  to  walk  up  and  down 
the  room.  "  Where  are  your  things  ? "  he  suddenly  asked 
Volodya,  halting  in  front  of  him. 

Poor  Volodya  was  so  assailed  by  the  idea  that  he  was 
a  coward  that  in  every  glance,  in  every  word,  he  discovered 
contempt  for  him,  the  wretched  coward.  It  seemed  to 
him  that  the  commander  of  the  battery  had  already  made 
out  his  secret,  and  that  he  was  making  light  of  him.  He 
answered  confusedly  that  his  things  were  on  the  Graf- 
skaya  wharf,  and  that  his  brother  had  promised  to  bring 
them  on  the  next  day. 

But  the  lieutenant-colonel  was  not  listening  to  him ; 
turning  to  the  sergeant,  he  asked : 


SEVASTOPOL  427 

"  Where  shall  we  locate  the  ensign  ?  " 

"  The  ensign  ?  "  asked  the  sergeant,  still  more  embar- 
rassing Volddya  with  a  cursory  glance,  expressive  of  the 
C[uestion,  "  What  kind  of  an  ensign  is  he  ? "  "  Well, 
below,  your  Honour,  with  the  staff-captain,  we  may  place 
the  ensign,"  he  continued,  after  a  moment's  thought. 
"  The  staff-captain  is  now  in  the  bastion,  so  his  cot  is 
unoccupied." 

"  Won't  you  take  it,  then,  for  the  time  being  ? "  said 
the  commander  of  the  battery.  "  I  suppose  you  are  tired. 
To-morrow  we  shall  fix  it  better." 

Volodya  rose  and  bowed. 

"  Wouldn't  you  like  some  tea  ? "  said  the  commander 
of  the  battery,  as  he  was  approaching  the  door.  "  You 
may  order  the  samovar." 

Volddya  bowed  and  went  out.  The  colonel's  orderly 
took  him  down-stairs,  and  led  him  into  a  bare,  dirty 
room,  in  which  all  kinds  of  lumber  were  lying  around 
and  an  iron  bed  was  standing  without  bedding  or  coverlet. 
On  the  bed  slept  a  man  in  a  pink  shirt,  covered  with  a 
thick  overcoat. 

Volodya  took  him  for  a  soldier. 

"  Peter  Nikolaevich  ! "  said  the  orderly,  pushing  the 
sleeping  man  by  the  shoulder.  "  The  ensign  will  lie  down 
here —  This  is  our  yunker,"  he  added,  turning  to  the 
ensign. 

"  Oh,  please  do  not  trouble  yourself,"  said  Volodya ; 
but  the  yunker,  a  tall,  solidly  built  young  man,  with  a 
handsome,  but  very  stupid  face,  rose  from  the  bed,  threw 
the  overcoat  over  his  shoulders,  and,  evidently  not  yet 
fully  aw^ake,  went  out  of  the  room. 

"  That's  all  right,  I  will  sleep  in  the  yard,"  he  muttered. 


XIII. 

When  Voloclya  was  left  alone  with  his  thoughts,  his 
first  seusation  was  a  dread  of  the  disorderly  and  discon- 
solate condition  in  which  his  soul  was.  He  wanted  to 
fall  asleep  and  to  forget  everything  that  surrounded  him, 
but  especially  himself.  He  put  out  the  candle,  lay  down 
on  the  bed,  and,  taking  off  his  overcoat,  covered  his  head 
over  with  it,  so  as  to  free  himself  of  the  terror  of  dark- 
ness, to  which  he  had  been  subject  from  childhood. 
Suddenly  he  was  struck  by  the  thought  that  a  bomb 
would  reach  the  house,  pierce  the  roof,  and  kill  him.  He 
listened  attentively ;  above  him  could  be  heard  the  steps 
of  the  commander  of  the  battery. 

"  Still,  if  it  does  reach  here,"  he  thought,  "  it  will  first 
kill  up-stairs,  and  me  only  afterward ;  at  least,  I  shall  not 
be  the  only  one."  This  thought  calmed  him  a  little ;  he 
was  beginning  to  doze  off.  "  But  what  will  happen  if 
Sevastopol  is  taken  to-night,  and  the  French  make  an 
irruption  here  ?  What  shall  I  defend  myself  with  ? " 
He  again  got  up,  and  began  to  pace  the  room.  The  terror 
of  the  real  danger  suppressed  the  mysterious  terror  of  the 
darkness.  There  was  no  sohd  object  in  the  room  but  a 
saddle  and  a  samovar. 

"  I  am  a  scoundrel,  a  coward,  a  vile  coward ! "  he  sud- 
denly thought,  and  once  more  passed  over  to  the  oppress- 
ive feeling  of  contempt  and  even  disgust  with  himself. 
He  lay  down  again,  and  endeavoured  not  to  think.  Then 
the    impressions    of   the    day   involuntarily  rose   in   his 

428 


SEVASTOPOL  429 

imagination,  under  the  accompaniment  of  the  uninter- 
rupted sounds  which  made  the  panes  in  the  one  window 
tremble,  and  they  again  reminded  him  of  the  danger  :  now 
it  was  the  wounded  and  the  blood  that  stood  before  him ; 
now  bombs  and  splinters,  that  were  flying  into  the  room ; 
now  the  pretty  Sister  of  Mercy,  who  was  dressing  his 
mortal  wound,  and  weeping  over  him ;  now  his  mother, 
who  was  seeing  him  off  in  the  provincial  town,  and  fer- 
vently praying,  with  tears  in  her  eyes,  before  the  miracle- 
working  image,  —  and  again  his  dream  seemed  impossible 
to  him.  But  suddenly  the  thought  of  Almighty  God, 
who  could  do  everything  and  receive  every  prayer,  clearly 
entered  into  his  mind.  He  knelt  down,  made  the  sign  of 
the  cross,  and  folded  his  hands  as  he  had  been  taught  to 
pray  in  childhood.  This  attitude  suddenly  transferred 
him  to  a  long-forgotten    blissful   feeling. 

"  If  I  must  die,  if  it  is  necessary  that  I  should  not  be, 
take  me,  O  Lord,"  he  thought,  "  take  me  as  soon  as  pos- 
sible ;  but  if  bravery,  if  firmness  are  needed,  which  I  do 
not  possess,  give  them  to  me,  save  me  from  shame  and 
disgrace,  which  I  am.  unable  to  bear,  and  teach  me  w^hat 
to  do  in  order  to  execute  Thy  will." 

The  shy,  childish,  limited  soul  suddenly  became  manly 
and  bright,  and  saw  new,  wide,  bright  horizons.  Many, 
many  things  he  thought  and  felt  in  the  short  time  while 
this  feehng  lasted.  He  soon  fell  into  quiet,  undisturbed 
slumber,  under  the  sounds  of  the  protracted  roar  of  the 
bombardment  and  the  trembling  of  the  windows. 

Almighty  God  !  Thou  alone  hast  heard  and  knowest 
those  simple,  but  ardent  and  despairing  prayers  of  igno- 
rance and  of  dim  repentance,  and  the  entreaties  to  heal 
their  bodies  and  enlighten  their  minds,  which  have  risen 
to  Thee  from  this  terrible  place  of  death,  issuing  from  the 
mouth  of  a  general,  who  but  a  second  before  had  been 
dreaming  of  the  Cross  of  St.  George  on  his  neck,  but  now 
with  terror  was  aware  of   Thy  nearness,  down  to  the 


430  SEVASTOPOL 

common  soldier,  who  fell  down  on  the  bare  floor  of  the 
Nicholas  battery  and  implored  Thee  to  give  him  there 
the  unconsciously  anticipated  reward  for  all  his  suffer- 
ings! 


XIV. 

The  elder  Kozeltsov,  having  met  in  the  street  a  soldier 
of  his  regiment,  repaired  with  him  at  once  to  the  fifth 
bastion. 

"  Hold  on  to  the  wall,  your  Honour  ! "  said  the  soldier. 

«  Why  ? " 

"  It  is  dangerous,  your  Honour :  it  is  carrying  across," 
said  the  soldier,  listening  to  the  sound  of  a  shell  whis- 
tling past  him  and  striking  against  the  dry  earth  on  the 
other  side  of  the  street. 

Kozeltsov  paid  no  attention  to  the  soldier,  but  con- 
tinued to  walk  briskly  in  the  middle  of  the  street. 

The  streets  were  the  same ;  the  fires,  sounds,  groans, 
and  encounters  of  wounded  men  were  the  same,  nay, 
more  frequent.  The  batteries,  breastworks,  and  trenches 
were  the  same  as  in  the  spring,  when  he  had  been  in 
Sevastopol ;  but  all  this  was  for  some  reason  more  melan- 
choly now,  and  at  the  same  time  more  energetic.  There 
were  more  breaches  in  the  houses,  no  lights  whatsoever 
in  the  windows,  except  in  Kushchiu's  house  (the  hos- 
pital), not  one  woman  was  met  with,  and  on  everything 
lay  not  the  former  character  of  habit  and  carelessness, 
but  the  imprint  of  oppressive  expectation  and  weariness. 

Finally  the  last  trench  was  reached,  and  there  he  heard 

the  voice  of  a  soldier  of  the  P regiment,  who  had 

recognized  the  former  commander  of  his  company,  and 
there  the  third  battalion  stood  in  the  darkness,  crowding 
at  the  wall,  occasionally  illuminated  by  the  fire  of  the 

431 


432  SEVASTOPOL 

fusilade,  but  otherwise  audible  by  their  subdued  conver- 
sation and  claukiug  of  guns. 

"Where  is  the  commander  of  the  regiment?"  asked 
Kozeltsov. 

"  In  the  blindage,  with  the  naval  men,  your  Honour ! " 
replied  the  obliging  soldier.  "  If  you  please,  I  will  take 
you  there." 

From  one  trench  into  another,  the  soldier  brought 
Kozeltsov  to  a  ditch  in  a  trench.  Here  sat  a  sailor, 
smoking  a  pipe ;  behind  him  could  be  seen  a  door, 
through  the  chink  of  which  peeped  a  hght. 

"  May  I  enter  ?  " 

"  I  shall  announce  you  at  once,"  and  the  sailor  went 
through  the  door. 

Two  voices  were  speaking  behind  the  door. 

"  If  Prussia  wiU  continue  its  neutrality,"  said  one  voice, 
"  then  Austria,  too  —  " 

"  What  of  Austria,"  said  another,  "  when  the  Slavic 
countries  —  go  beg  them  —  " 

Kozeltsov  had  never  been  in  this  blindage.  It  startled 
him  by  its  elegance.  The  floor  was  of  parquetry,  and 
a  screen  covered  the  door.  Along  the  walls  stood  two 
beds ;  in  the  corner  stood  a  large  image  of  the  Virgin, 
in  gold  foil,  and  in  front  of  it  burnt  a  rose-coloured  lamp. 
On  one  of  the  beds  slept  a  sailor,  with  all  his  clothes  on ; 
on  the  other,  at  a  table,  on  which  stood  two  half-full 
bottles  of  wine,  sat  the  persons  conversing,  —  the  new 
commander  of  the  regiment,  and  an  adjutant.  Though 
Kozeltsov  was  far  from  being  a  coward,  and  was  guilty 
of  absolutely  nothing,  either  before  the  government  or 
before  the  commander  of  the  regiment,  yet  he  lost  his 
composure  before  the  colonel,  who  but  lately  had  been 
his  comrade,  —  so  proudly  did  this  colonel  rise  and  listen 
to  him. 

"  It  is  strange,"  thought  Kozeltsov,  looking  at  his  com- 
mander ;  "  it  is  only  seven  weeks  since  he  has  assumed 


SEVASTOPOL  433 

the  command  of  the  regiment,  and  how  already  in  all  his 
surroundings,  in  his  attire,  movements,  and  looks  may  be 
discerned  the  power  of  a  commander  of  the  regiment. 
How  long  ago  is  it,"  he  thought, "  since  this  very  Batrish- 
chev  used  to  carouse  with  us,  and  to  wear  for  weeks  at 
a  time  a  dark-coloured  shirt,  and  to  eat  all  the  time 
chopped  steak  and  cheese  pie  without  inviting  any  one 
to  his  room  ?  And  now  !  There  is  an  expression  of  chill 
haughtiness  in  his  eyes,  which  says  to  you:  'Though  I 
am  a  comrade  of  yours,  being  a  regimental  commander 
of  the  new  school,  yet  beheve  me,  I  know  how  gladly 
you  would  give  up  half  your  life,  if  you  could  be  in 
my  place  ! ' " 

"  You  have  been  rather  long  convalescing,"  the  colonel 
said  coldly  to  Kozeltsov,  looking  at  him. 

"  I  was  ill,  colonel !  Even  now  the  wound  is  not  all 
healed  over." 

"  Then  there  was  no  use  coming,"  said  the  colonel, 
eyeing  the  officer's  whole  form  with  a  suspicious  glance. 
"  But  can  you  attend  to  duty  ? " 

"  Certainly  I  can." 

"  I  am  glad  of  it.  Take  then  from  Ensign  Zaytsev  the 
ninth  company,  —  the  one  you  had  before ;  you  will  get 
the  order  at  once." 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Be  so  kind  as  to  send  to  me  the  adjutant  of  the  regi- 
ment, when  you  leave,"  concluded  the  commander  of  the 
regiment,  letting  him  know  by  a  slight  inclination  of 
his  head  that  the  interview  was  at  an  end. 

Coming  out  of  the  blindage,  Kozeltsov  grumbled  some- 
thing several  times  and  shrugged  his  shoulders,  as  though 
something  pained,  annoyed,  and  mortified  him  ;  it  was  not 
the  commander  of  the  regiment  who  mortified  him  (there 
was  no  reason  for  that),  but  he  was  somehow  dissatisfied 
with  himself  and  with  all  that  surrounded  him. 


XV. 

Before  meeting  his  officers,  Kozeltsdv  went  to  greet 
his  company  and  to  find  out  where  it  was  stationed. 
The  breastwork  of  gabions,  the  forms  of  the  trenches,  the 
cannon  that  he  passed,  even  the  spHnters  and  bombs 
against  which  he  stumbled  on  his  way,  —  all  this  con- 
tinually illuminated  by  the  fires  of  the  discharges,  was 
quite  familiar  to  him ;  all  this  had  been  well  impressed 
upon  his  memory  three  months  before,  during  the  two 
weeks  he  had  passed  without  interruption  in  this  very 
bastion.  Though  there  was  much  of  a  terrifying  nature 
in  these  reminiscences,  yet  there  was  mingled  with  them 
a  certain  charm  of  the  past,  and  it  gave  him  pleasure  to 
recognize  the  familiar  places  and  objects,  as  though 
he  had  passed  two  agreeable  weeks  here.  The  company 
was  stationed  near  the  defensive  wall  on  the  side  of  the 
sixth  bastion. 

Kozeltsdv  entered  a  long  blindage,  which  was  entirely 
open  on  the  side  of  the  entrance,  and  in  which  he  was 
told  the  ninth  company  was  stationed.  There  literally 
was  left  no  space  to  step  foot  in  the  whole  blindage : 
it  was  so  choked  with  soldiers  up  to  the  very  entrance. 
On  one  side  was  burning  a  crooked  tallow  dip,  which 
a  soldier  was  holding,  while  lying  down,  to  throw  light 
on  a  book  from  which  another  soldier  was  reading  by 
syllables.  Near  the  candle  in  the  stifling  half-light 
of  the  blindage  were  seen  craning  heads,  eagerly  listening 
to  the  reader.  The  book  was  a  primer.  Upon  entering 
the  bhndage,  Kozeltsdv  heard  the  following : 

434 


SEVASTOPOL  435 

"  Pray-er  aft-er  study.     I  thank  Thee,  Cre-a-tor  —  " 

"  Snuff  the  candle  ! "  said  a  voice.     "  It  is  a  fine  book." 

"  My  —  God  —  "  continued  the  reader. 

When  Kozeltsov  asked  for  the  sergeant,  the  reader 
stopped,  the  soldiers  began  to  stir,  to  clear  their  throats, 
and  to  sniffle,  as  is  always  the  case  after  a  repressed  con- 
versation ;  the  sergeant,  buttoning  himself,  rose  near  the 
group  around  the  reader,  and,  stepping  over  and  upon  the 
legs  of  those  who  could  not  find  a  place  to  draw  them 
back,  went  out  to  the  officer. 

"  Good  evening,  brother  !     Is  this  all  our  company  ? " 

"  I  wish  you  health  !  I  congratulate  your  Honour  upon 
your  arrival !  "  answered  the  sergeant,  looking  merrily  and 
in  a  friendly  manner  at  Kozeltsov.  "  How  is  your  health, 
your  Honour  ?     Thank  God.     It  was  dull  without  you." 

It  was  evident  that  Kozeltsov  was  loved  by  his  com- 
pany. 

In  the  depth  of  the  blindage  could  be  heard  voices : 
"The  old  captain  is  back,  the  one  that  was  wounded, 
Kozeltsov,  Mikhaylo  Semduych,"  and  so  forth  ;  some  even 
moved  toward  him,  and  his  drummer  saluted  him. 

"  Good  evening,  Obanchuk  ! "  said  Kozeltsov.  "  Are 
you  hale  ?  Good  evening,  boys  ! "  he  then  said,  raising 
his  voice. 

"  We  wish  you  health  ! "  was  roared  forth  in  the  blind- 
age. 

"  How  are  you  getting  on,  boys  ? " 

"  Poorly,  your  Honour.  The  French  are  getting  the 
best  of  us,  that's  bad  ;  they  are  shooting  from  behind  the 
entrenchment,  and  that's  all !  They  do  not  come  out  into 
the  field." 

"  Maybe,  with  God's  aid,  it  will  be  my  luck  to  see  them 
come  out  into  the  field,  boys  ! "  said  Kozeltsov.  "  It  will 
not  be  our  first  time ;  we  will  stab  them  again." 

"  It  will  give  us  pleasure  to  do  our  best,"  said  several 
voices. 


436  SEVASTOPOL 

"  He  is,  really,  brave,"  said  a  voice. 

"  He  is  mightily  brave  ! "  said  the  drummer,  not  aloud, 
but  audibly  enough,  turning  to  another  soldier,  as  though 
finding  his  justification  in  the  words  of  the  commander  of 
the  company,  and  convincing  him  that  there  was  nothing 
boastful  and  improbable  in  these  words. 

From  the  soldiers,  Kozeltsdv  passed  over  to  the  defen- 
sive barracks,  to  his  fellow  officers. 


XVI. 

In  the  large  room  of  the  barracks  there  was  an  immense 
throng  of  naval,  artillery,  and  infantry  oflicers.  Some 
were  asleep,  others  conversed,  sitting  on  a  caisson  and  the 
carriage  of  a  fortress  cannon ;  others  again,  forming  the 
largest  and  noisiest  group  under  the  vault,  were  seated  on 
the  floor,  on  two  spread  felt  mantles,  drinking  porter  and 
playing  cards. 

"  Ah,  Kozeltsov,  Kozeltsov  !  It  is  good  of  you  to  have 
come,  you  are  a  brave  fellow !  —  How  is  the  wound  ? " 
they  said  on  all  sides.  It  w^as  evident  that  they  liked 
him  here,  too,  and  that  they  were  glad  to  see  him  back. 

Having  pressed  the  hands  of  his  acquaintances,  Kozel- 
tsov joined  the  noisy  group,  which  was  formed  by  sev- 
eral officers  playing  cards.  Among  them  also  were  his 
acquaintances.  A  handsome,  sparse,  dark-complexioned 
man,  with  a  long  tliin  nose  and  long  moustache  standing 
out  from  his  cheeks,  was  keeping  bank  with  his  white  tliin 
fingers,  on  one  of  which  was  a  large  gold  ring  with  a  coat 
of  arms.  He  was  paying  bank,  thrusting  the  money 
straight  and  irregularly,  evidently  agitated  by  something, 
though  he  wished  to  appear  careless.  Near  him,  on  his 
right,  lay,  leaning  on  his  arm,  a  gray-haired  major,  who 
with  an  affectation  of  cold-bloodedness  punted  at  half  a 
rouble,  and  immediately  paid  the  stakes.  On  the  left 
squatted  an  officer  with  a  red,  perspiring  face,  smiling 
forcedly,  and  jesting.  When  his  cards  were  beaten,  he 
kept  moving  one  of  his  hands  in  the  empty  pocket  of  his 

437 


438  SEVASTOPOL 

trousers.  He  was  playing  at  large  stakes,  but  obviously 
no  longer  with  cash,  and  it  was  this  wliich  angered  the 
handsome,  dark-complexioned  man.  Up  and  down  the 
room  walked,  with  a  large  package  of  paper  money  in  his 
hands,  a  bald-headed,  haggard,  pale  officer,  with  a  huge 
nose  and  mouth,  and  he  constantly  put  up  cash  on  the 
cards,  and  won  the  stakes. 

Kozeltsov  took  a  drink  of  brandy  and  sat  down  near 
the  players. 

"Won't  you  take  a  punt,  Mikhail  Sem^nych?"  the 
cashier  said  to  him.  "  I  suppose  you  have  brought  a  pile 
of  money  with  you." 

"  Where  was  I  to  get  the  money  from  ?  On  the  con- 
trary, I  spent  the  last  in  the  city." 

"  I  don't  believe  it !  You  must  have  fleeced  somebody 
at  Simferopol." 

"  Really,  I  have  very  little,"  said  Kozeltsov,  but  evi- 
dently not  wishing  to  be  taken  at  his  word,  he  unbuttoned 
his  coat,  and  took  the  old  cards  into  his  hands. 

"  Well,  I'll  try  my  luck ;  the  devil  sometimes  plays 
funny  tricks !  Even  a  gnat,  you  know,  can  do  things. 
Only  I  must  fortify  myself  by  a  drink." 

After  taking  another  wine-glass  of  brandy  and  some 
porter,  he  in  a  short  time  lost  his  last  three  roubles. 

Against  the  short  perspiring  officer  was  written  one 
hundred  and  fifty  roubles. 

"  No,  I  have  no  luck,"  he  said,  carelessly  taking  a  new 
card. 

"  Will  you  kindly  send  it  ? "  said  the  cashier,  stopping 
for  a  moment  in  his  deahng,  and  looking  at  him. 

"  Permit  me  to  send  it  to-morrow,"  answered  the  per- 
spiring officer,  getting  up  and  convulsively  rummaging 
through  his  empty  pocket. 

"  Hm ! "  grumbled  the  cashier,  and,  angrily  dealing  to 
the  right  and  left,  he  gave  out  the  whole  pack.  "But 
really,  this  won't  do,"  he  said,  putting  down  his  cards. 


SEVASTOPOL  439 

"  I  pass.  This  will  not  do,  Zakhar  Ivanych,"  he  added. 
"  We  were  playing  for  cash,  and  not  to  charge  up." 

"  Do  you  doubt  me  ?     That  is  strange  ! " 

"  From  whom  am  I  to  get  it  ?  "  growled  the  major,  who 
had  won  something  like  eight  roubles.  "  I  have  sent  up 
more  than  twenty  roubles,  and  having  won  I  receive 
nothing." 

"  What  am  I  to  pay  with  when  there  is  no  money  on 
the  table  ? "  said  the  cashier. 

"  That  is  not  my  business ! "  cried  the  major,  rising. 
"  I  am  playing  with  you,  and  not  with  them." 

The  perspiring  officer  suddenly  became  excited. 

"  I  tell  you  I  will  pay  to-morrow ;  how  dare  you,  then, 
insult  me  ? " 

"  I  say  what  I  please !  That  is  no  way  of  doing ! " 
cried  the  major. 

"  Stop  it,  r^dor  F^dorych ! "  they  all  said  at  once, 
keeping  back  the  major. 

But  we  will  draw  down  the  curtain  over  the  scene  im- 
mediately. To-morrow,  maybe  this  very  night,  eveiy  one 
of  these  men  will  go  merrily  and  proudly  to  meet  death, 
and  will  die  firm  and  calm ;  but  the  only  consolation  in 
life,  under  conditions  that  horrify  the  coldest  imagination, 
when  everything  humane  is  absent  and  there  is  no  hope 
of  emerging  from  the  horrors,  —  the  only  consolation  is 
forgetfulness,  the  annihilation  of  consciousness.  At  the 
bottom  of  the  soul  of  each  of  them  lies  a  noble  spark 
which  will  make  a  hero  of  him ;  but  this  spark  is  not 
burning  brightly,  —  there  will  come  the  fatal  moment, 
and  it  will  burst  into  a  flame  and  will  illumine  great 
deeds. 


XVII. 

On  the  following  day  the  bombardment  was  continued 

with  the  same  force.  At  about  eleven  o'clock  in  the 
morning,  Volodya  Kozeltsdv  was  sitting  in  the  circle  of 
the  battery  officers,  and,  having  become  a  little  accus- 
tomed to  them,  was  watching  the  new  faces,  observing, 
questioning,  and  himself  talking.  The  modest  conversa- 
tion of  the  artillerists,  with  a  slight  pretence  at  learning, 
impressed  and  pleased  him,  while  the  shy,  innocent,  hand- 
some exterior  of  Volodya  gained  the  officers'  favour  for 
him. 

The  older  officer  of  the  battery,  a  captain,  —  an  under- 
sized, red-haired  man,  with  a  tuft  on  his  crown,  and  with 
smooth  temples,  brought  up  in  the  old  traditions  of  the 
artillery,  a  lady's  man  and  presumably  learned,  —  was  in- 
terested in  Volddya's  knowledge  of  artillery,  asked  him 
about  new  inventions,  graciously  jested  about  his  youth 
and  handsome  face,  and,  in  general,  treated  him  like  a 
son,  which  was  extremely  agreeable  to  Volodya. 

Sub-Lieutenant  Dyad(5nko,  a  young  officer  with  a  Little- 
Eussian  accent,  in  a  torn  overcoat  and  dishevelled  hair, 
talked  in  a  loud  voice,  was  all  the  time  looking  for  a 
chance  for  a  heated  dispute,  and  was  quick  in  all  his 
motions ;  but  he  nevertheless  pleased  Volodya,  who  could 
not  help  noticing  under  this  coarse  exterior  a  very  good 
and  exceedingly  kind  man.  Dyad^nko  continually  offered 
his  services  to  Volodya,  and  proved  to  Inm  that  all  the 
ordnance  at  Sevastopol  was  not  placed  according  to  the 
rules. 

Lieutenant  Chernovitski,  with  high  arching  eyebrows, 

.    m 


SEVASTOPOL  441 

though  more  polite  than  the  rest,  and  dressed  in  a  fairly 
clean  coat,  which,  if  it  was  not  new,  was  carefully  mended, 
and  showing  a  gold  chain  on  his  velvet  waistcoat,  did  not 
please  Volodya.  He  kept  asking  what  the  emperor  and 
the  Minister  of  War  were  doing,  told  him  with  an  unnatural 
ecstasy  the  deeds  of  bravery  which  had  been  performed 
at  Sevastopol,  regretted  the  small  number  of  real  patriots, 
and,  in  general,  displayed  much  learning,  wit,  and  noble 
sentiments ;  but  for  some  reason  or  other  all  this  seemed 
disagreeable  and  unnatural  to  Volodya.  The  main  thing 
was,  he  had  observed  that  the  other  officers  did  not  speak 
to  Cbernovitski.  Yunker  Viang,  whom  he  had  awakened 
the  day  before,  was  there  also.  He  did  not  say  anything, 
but,  sitting  modestly  in  the  corner,  laughed  whenever 
anything  funny  was  said,  reminded  people  of  things  they 
had  forgotten,  and  passed  the  brandy  and  rolled  the  cigar- 
ettes for  the  officers.  Whether  it  was  the  modest,  civil 
bearing  of  Volodya,  who  treated  him  like  an  officer,  and 
did  not  disdain  him  like  a  boy,  or  whether  it  was  his 
pleasant  exterior,  which  so  captivated  Vlauga  (as  the 
soldiers  called  him,  for  some  reason  or  other  making  his 
name  a  feminine),  —  he  did  not  take  his  large  kindly 
eyes  away  from  the  new  officer,  guessed  and  anticipated 
all  his  wishes,  and  all  the  time  dwelt  in  a  kind  of  amor- 
ous transport,  which,  of  course,  the  officers  noticed  and 
ridiculed. 

Before  dinner  the  staff-captain  was  relieved  in  the  bas- 
tion, and  he  joined  their  company.  Staff-Captain  Kraut 
was  a  blond,  handsome,  audacious  officer,  with  long  sandy 
moustache  and  whiskers ;  he  spoke  Eussian  excellently, 
but  a  little  too  well  and  too  regularly  for  a  Russian.  In 
his  ser\dce  and  in  life  he  was  the  same  as  with  his  lan- 
guage ;  he  served  beautifully,  was  an  excellent  companion, 
a  most  reliable  man  in  monetary  affairs ;  but  simply,  as  a 
man,  even  because  everything  was  so  good,  there  was 
something  lacking.     Like  all  Russian  Germans  he  was, 


442  SEVASTOPOL 

in  strange  contradistinction  to  the  ideal  German  Germans, 
in  the  highest  degree  practical. 

"  Here  he  is  coming,  our  hero ! "  said  the  captain,  as 
Kraut  entered  the  room,  waving  his  arms  and  clattering 
with  his  spurs.  "  What  do  you  prefer,  Friedrich  Kres- 
tyauych,  tea  or  hrandy  ? " 

"  I  have  ordered  tea  got  ready  for  me,  but  in  the  mean- 
time I  will  take  a  dram  to  soothe  my  spirit.  Very  happy 
to  make  your  acquaintance  ;  I  beg  you  to  have  me  in  your 
graces,"  he  said  to  Volodya,  who,  rising,  saluted  him. 
"  Staff-Captain  Kraut  —  The  cannoneer  in  the  bastion 
told  me  that  you  arrived  yesterday." 

"  I  am  very  much  obliged  to  you  for  your  bed  :  I  slept 
on  it." 

"  But  did  you  rest  well  ?  One  of  its  legs  is  broken ; 
but  there  is  no  time  to  fix  it,  —  we  are  in  a  stage  of 
siege,  —  something  ought  to  be  put  under.'' 

"  Have  things  gone  well  while  you  were  on  duty  ? " 
asked  Dyad^uko. 

"  Passable.  Only  Skvortsov  caught  it,  and  one  gun- 
carriage  was  mended  yesterday.  They  had  smashed  the 
cheek  into  splinters." 

He  rose  from  his  seat  and  began  to  walk  around  ;  it 
was  evident  he  was  under  the  influence  of  the  pleasant 
sensation  of  a  man  who  has  just  escaped  a  danger. 

"  Well,  Dmitri  Gavrilych,"  he  said,  shaking  the  cap- 
tain's knees,  "  how  are  you  getting  on  ?  How  is  your 
advancement  ?     Still  mum  ?  " 

"  Nothing  yet." 

"  And  there  will  be  nothing,"  said  Dyad^nko.  "  I 
have  proved  it  to  you  before." 

"  Why  not  ? " 

"  Because  you  did  not  make  the  right  report." 

"  Always  disputing ! "  said  Kraut,  smiling  merrily. 
"  You  are  a  real  stubborn  Little-Eussian !  And  just  to 
annoy  you,  you  will  get  a  Heutenanc^'." 


SEVASTOPOL  443 

"  No,  I  won't." 

"  Viang !  Please  fetch  my  pipe,  and  fill  it  for  me,"  he 
said,  turning  to  the  yunker,  who  obligingly  ran  away  to 
fetch  the  pipe. 

Kraut  animated  them  all :  he  told  of  the  bombardment, 
asked  for  the  news  during  his  absence,  and  talked  with 
everybody. 


xvin. 

"  Well  ?  Are  you  all  settled  here,  among  us  ? "  Kraut 
asked  Volodya.  "  Pardon  me,  what  is  your  name  and  pat- 
ronymic ?  Such  is  the  custom  with  us,  in  the  artillery. 
Have  you  supplied  yourself  with  a  riding-horse  ? " 

"  No,"  said  Volodya,  "  I  do  not  know  what  to  do.  I 
told  the  captain  that  I  had  no  horse  and  no  money,  unless 
I  got  my  forage  and  travelling  money.  I  should  like  for 
the  time  being  to  ask  the  commander  of  the  battery  for  a 
horse,  but  I  am  afraid  he  will  refuse  it." 

"  ApoUon  Sergyeich  ! "  and  he  produced  a  sound  with 
his  lips,  expressive  of  strong  doubt,  and  glanced  at  the 
captain.     "  Hardly  ! " 

"  Well,  if  he  does  refuse,  there  will  be  no  great  misfor- 
tune," said  the  captain.  "  To  tell  the  truth,  no  horses  are 
needed  here.     Still,  we  might  try  ;  I  will  ask  him  to-day." 

"  You  evidently  do  not  know  him,"  Dyad^nko  put  in 
his  word.  "  Wliatever  else  he  may  refuse,  he  will  not 
refuse  the  horse.     Do  j^ou  want  to  wager  ? " 

"  Of  course,  you  must  contradict,  as  usual." 

"  I  contradict  because  I  know.  He  is  stingy  on  every- 
thing else,  but  he  will  give  horses,  because  it  is  not  to  his 
interest  to  refuse  them." 

"How  can  he  help  refusing  them  when  oats  are  at 
eight  roubles  ? "  said  Kraut.  "  It  is  to  his  interest  not  to 
keep  a  superfluous  horse  ! " 

"  Ask  for  Starling,  Vladimir  Semenych  ! "  said  Viang, 
returning  with  Kraut's  pipe.     "  It  is  an  excellent  horse." 

444 


SEVASTOPOL  445 

"  From  which  you  fell  into  a  ditch  at  Magpie-ville  ? 
Ah  ?  Vlanga  ? "  remarked  the  staff-captain. 

«  What  of  it  if  oats  are  at  eight  roubles,  as  you  say," 
Dyad^nko  continued  to  dispute,  "  if  he  marks  it  down  at 
ten  and  a  half.     Of  course  it  is  to  his  interest." 

"  Why  should  there  not  something  stick  to  his  hands  ? 
If  you  were  the  commander  of  a  battery,  you  would  not 
let  a  horse  go  down-town  ! " 

"  When  I  shall  be  commander  of  a  battery,  my  horses 
will  get  four  measures  of  grain  a  day,  and  I  will  not 
make  anything  on  them." 

"  We  shall  see,"  said  the  staff-captain.  "  You  will  do 
just  the  same,  and  so  will  he,  when  he  commands  a  bat- 
tery," he  added,  pointing  to  Volodya. 

"  What  makes  you  think,  Friedrich  Krestyanych,  that 
he  will  take  advantage  of  his  position  ? "  Chernovitski 
chimed  in.  "  Maybe  he  has  wealth  of  his  own,  and  won't 
have  to  take  advantage." 

"  No,  I  —  pardon  me,  captain,"  said  Volodya,  blushing 
up  to  his  ears.     "  I  regard  this  as  ignoble." 

"  Oho  !     He  has  grit ! "  said  Kraut. 

"  It  seems  to  me  hke  this :  if  it  is  not  my  money,  I 
have  no  right  to  take  it." 

"But  let  me  tell  you  something,  young  man,"  the 
captain  began,  in  a  more  serious  tone.  "  You  know,  that 
when  you  command  a  battery,  nothing  will  be  said, 
provided  you  do  things  right ;  the  commander  of  the 
battery  does  not  interfere  with  the  commissary  stores  of 
the  soldiers,  —  such  has  been  the  custom  in  the  artillery 
since  time  immemorial.  If  you  are  a  poor  master,  you 
will  have  nothing  left.  Now,  this  is  what  you  have  to 
spend  money  on,  contrary  to  regulations :  for  shoeing  — 
one  (he  bent  one  finger) ;  for  the  drugs  —  two  (he  bent 
another  finger) ;  for  the  chancery  —  three  ;  for  off  horses 
you  have  to  pay  as  high  as  five  hundred  roubles  apiece, 
my  dear  —  that  is  four ;  you  must  change  the  soldiers' 


446  SEVASTOPOL 

collars ;  much  money  goes  for  coal ;  you  board  the  officers. 
If  you  are  a  commander  of  a  battery,  you  have  to  live  in 
proper  style:  you  need  a  carriage,  a  fur  coat,  and  this 
and  that  —  what  is  the  use  of  mentioning  it  all  ?  " 

"  But  above  everything  else,"  interrupted  the  captain, 
wrho  had  all  the  time  kept  silent.  "  You  must  consider 
this,  Vladimir  Sem^nych :  take  a  man  like  me,  —  he  has 
to  serve  twenty  years,  first  at  a  salary  of  two  hundred, 
and  then  at  three  hundred  roubles.  Why  should  he  not 
in  his  old  age  provide  a  piece  of  bread  for  himself  ? " 

"  What's  the  use  of  talking  ? "  again  spoke  the  staff-cap- 
tain. "  Don't  be  in  a  hurry  to  pass  an  opinion.  Serve 
awhile,  and  then  judge." 

Volodya  was  dreadfully  embarrassed  and  ashamed  for 
having  expressed  himself  without  proper  consideration, 
and  he  mumbled  something  and  continued  to  listen  in 
silence,  while  Dyad(5nko  was  with  the  greatest  passion 
disputing  the  matter  and  proving  the  opposite. 

The  discussion  was  interrupted  by  the  appearance  of 
the  colonel's  orderly,  calling  to  dinner. 

"  Tell  Apollou  Sergy^ich  to  serve  some  wine,"  said 
Chernovitski,  buttoning  his  coat,  to  the  captain.  "  What 
makes  him  so  stingy  ?  If  he  is  killed,  nobody  will  get 
anything ! " 

"Tell  him  yourself!" 

'i  No,  you  are  the  senior  officer :  it  is  necessary  to  have 
order  in  everything." 


XIX. 

The  table  was  removed  from  the  wall,  and  covered  with 
a  soiled  cloth,  in  the  very  room  where  Volodya  had  re- 
ported to  the  colonel  the  evening  before.  The  commander 
of  the  battery  this  time  gave  him  his  hand,  and  asked 
him  about  St.  Petersburg  and  the  journey. 

"  Well,  gentlemen,  he  who  drinks  brandy,  let  him  help 
himself.     Ensigns  don't  drink,"  he  added,  smiling. 

The  commander  of  the  battery  did  not  seem  as  stern 
as  on  the  previous  day ;  on  the  contrary,  he  liad  the 
appearance  of  a  kind,  hospitable  host  and  a  senior  comrade 
of  the  officers.  Nevertheless,  all  the  officers,  from  the  old 
captain  down  to  Ensign  Dyad^nko,  expressed  their  great 
respect  for  him,  by  their  manner  of  speech,  while  looking 
deferentially  into  his  eyes,  and  by  the  shy  reserve  with 
which  they  went  up  one  after  another  to  take  a  drink  of 
brandy. 

The  dinner  consisted  of  a  large  bowl  of  beet  soup,  in 
which  swam  around  fat  pieces  of  beef  and  an  immense 
quantity  of  pepper  and  laurel  leaves,  of  Polish  forcemeat 
with  mustard,  and  of  tripe  with  not  very  fresh  butter. 
There  were  no  napkins,  the  spoons  were  of  tin  and  wood, 
there  were  only  two  glasses,  and  on  the  table  stood  only 
a  decanter  of  water  with  a  broken  neck ;  but  the  dinner 
was  not  dull :  the  conversation  never  flagged. 

At  first,  the  conversation  turned  on  the  battle  at  Inker- 
man,  in  which  the  battery  had  taken  part ;  each  one  gave 
his  impressions  and  reflected  on  the  causes  of  its  failure, 
and  stopped   speaking,    every  time  the  commander  had 

447 


448  SEVASTOPOL 

anything  to  say ;  then  the  conversation  naturally  passed 
to  the  insufficiency  of  the  calibre  of  the  light  guns,  and  to 
the  new  lighter  cannon,  which  gave  Volodya  a  chance 
to  display  his  knowledge  of  artillery.  The  conversation 
did  not  dwell  on  the  present  terrible  condition  of  Sevasto- 
pol, as  though  each  had  been  thinking  too  much  of  the 
subject  to  mention  it.  Similarly,  the  duties  of  the  service, 
which  were  to  devolve  on  Volodya,  were  not  referred  to 
at  all,  to  his  surprise  and  mortification,  as  though  he  had 
arrived  in  Sevastopol  only  to  tell  of  the  lighter  guns,  and 
to  dine  with  the  commauder  of  the  battery.  During  their 
dinner,  a  bomb  fell  not  far  from  the  house  where  they 
were  sitting.  The  floor  and  walls  shook  as  from  an  earth- 
quake, and  the  windows  were  shrouded  by  a  powder 
smoke. 

"  I  suppose  you  have  not  seen  anything  like  this  in  St. 
Petersburg;  here  we  get  such  surprises  often,"  said  the 
commander  of  the  battery. 

"  Viang,  go  and  see  where  it  has  exploded." 

Viang  went  out  and  reported  that  it  was  in  the  square, 
and  that  was  the  last  thing  said  about  the  bomb. 

Just  before  the  end  of  the  dinner,  an  old  man,  the  scribe 
of  the  battery,  entered  the  room  with  three  sealed  en- 
velopes, which  he  handed  to  the  commander  of  the 
battery. 

'  Tliis  one  is  very  pressing.  A  Cossack  has  brought  it 
from  the  chief  of  artillery." 

All  the  officers  looked  in  impatient  expectancy  at  the 
fingers  of  the  commander,  which  were  quite  used  to  break- 
ing such  seals,  and  which  took  out  the  very  pressing 
document.  "  What  could  it  be  ? "  each  one  asked  himself. 
It  might  mean  leaving  Sevastopol  altogether,  taking  a 
rest,  or  an  order  for  the  whole  battery  to  take  up  positions 
in  the  bastions. 

"  Again  ! "  said  the  commander  of  the  battery,  angrily 
flinging  the  paper  on  the  table. 


SEVASTOPOL  449 

"What  is  it,  Apolldn  Sergy^ich?"  asked  the  senior 
officer. 

"  They  are  asking  for  an  officer  with  the  crew  for  some 
mortar  battery.  As  it  is,  I  lack  four  officers  and  the  crew 
for  the  full  complement,"  grumbled  the  commander  of  the 
battery,  "  and  they  want  to  take  away  another  —  Well, 
somebody  will  have  to  go,  gentlemen,"  he  said,  after  a 
moment's  silence.  "  The  order  is  to  be  on  the  barricade  at 
seven  o'clock  —  Send  for  the  sergeant !  Gentlemen, 
who  will  go  ?     Decide,"  he  repeated. 

"  He  has  not  been  yet,"  said  Chemovitski,  pointing  to 
Volodya. 

The  commander  of  the  battery  made  no  reply. 

"Yes,  I  sliould  like  to,"  said  Volodya,  feeling  a  cold 
perspiration  on  his  back  and  neck. 

"  Why  should  he  ? "  the  captain  interrupted  him.  "  Of 
course,  no  one  will  refuse,  neither  would  one  beg  for  the 
favour ;  if  Apollon  Sergy^ich  leaves  the  matter  to  us,  let 
us  cast  lots,  as  we  did  the  last  time." 

Everybody  agreed  to  it.  Kraut  cut  some  slips  of  paper, 
rolled  them  up,  and  threw  them  into  a  cap.  The  captain 
was  playful  and  even  had  the  courage  to  ask  the  colonel 
for  some  wine,  in  order  to  brace  himself,  as  he  said. 
Dyad^nko  was  gloomy,  Volddya  had  a  smile  on  his  face. 
Chemovitski  insisted  that  he  would  have  to  go,  and  Kraut 
was  entirely  at  ease. 

Volodya  was  the  first  to  draw.  He  picked  up  a  paper 
which  was  longer  than  the  rest,  but  it  suddenly  occurred 
to  him  to  exchange  it  for  another,  which  was  smaller  and 
thinner,  and,  upon  opening  it,  he  read,  "  To  go  ! " 

"  I  have  to,"  he  said,  with  a  sigh. 

"  Well,  God  protect  you  !  You'll  get  your  fire  baptism 
at  once,"  said  the  commander  of  the  battery,  glancing  with 
a  kindly  smile  at  the  disturbed  face  of  the  ensign.  "  Get 
ready  at  once !  To  make  it  more  cheerful  for  you,  Viang 
will  go  with  you  as  gun-sergeant." 


I 


XX. 

Vlang  was  exceedingly  well  satisfied  with  his  appoint- 
ment, ran  at  once  to  get  ready,  and,  all  dressed  up,  came 
back  to  help  Volodya ;  he  tried  to  persuade  him  to  take 
along  a  cot,  a  fur  coat,  some  old  numbers  of  the  "  Memoirs 
of  the  Fatherland,"  the  coffee-pot  with  the  spirit-lamp, 
and  other  unnecessary  things.  The  captain  advised  Vo- 
lodya first  to  read  from  the  Manual  about  the  firing  from 
mortars,  and  to  copy  out  the  tables.  Volodya  at  once 
sat  down  to  work,  and,  to  his  agreeable  surprise,  he  dis- 
covered that,  although  he  was  still  disturbed  by  the  terror 
of  the  danger  and  even  more  by  his  dread  of  being  a 
coward,  these  feelings  were  not  so  powerful  as  on  the  pre- 
vious day.  This  was  partly  due  to  the  influence  of  daylight 
and  his  activity,  and  partly  to  the  fact  that  fear,  like 
every  powerful  sensation,  cannot  last  in  the  same  measure 
for  any  length  of  time.  In  short,  he  had  emerged  from  his 
affright.  At  about  seven  o'clock,  just  as  the  sun  was 
beginning  to  set  behind  the  Nicholas  barracks,  the  ser- 
geant entered  and  announced  that  the  men  were  in  readi- 
ness,  and  waiting  for  him. 

"  I  have  given  Vlanga  the  list.  Please  ask  him  for  it, 
your  Honour  ! "  he  said. 

About  twenty  artillerymen,  in  short  swords  without 
their  loading  implements,  were  standing  around  the  cor- 
ner of  the  house.  Volodya  walked  over  to  them  with  the 
yunker. 

"  Shall  I  deliver  a  short  speech  to  them,  or  simply  say, 
'  Good  evening,  boys ! '    and  nothing  else  ? "    he  thought. 

450 


SEVASTOPOL  451 

"  Why  should  I  not  say,  '  Good  evening,  boys ! '  It  is  cer- 
tainly proper."  He  boldly  shouted  in  his  sonorous  voice, 
*'  Good  evening,  boys  ! "  The  soldiers  cheerfully  returned 
the  greeting ;  his  youthful,  fresh  voice  rang  agreeably  to 
their  ears. 

Volodya  marched  briskly  at  the  head  of  the  soldiers, 
and  though  his  heart  beat  as  though  he  had  run  several 
versts  at  full  speed,  his  gait  was  light  and  his  face  cheer- 
ful. As  they  were  ascending  the  hill  leading  to  the 
Malakhov  Mound,  he  noticed  that  Viang,  who  did  not 
fall  a  step  behind  him,  and  who  at  home  had  the  appear- 
ance of  such  a  courageous  man,  constantly  walked  to  one 
side  and  lowered  his  head,  as  though  all  the  bombs  and 
shells,  which  were  whistling  past  with  extraordinary  fre- 
quency, were  flying  straight  at  him.  A  few  of  the  soldiers 
acted  in  the  same  manner,  and  in  most  faces,  in  general, 
was  expressed  restlessness,  if  not  fear.  These  circum- 
stances completely  calmed  Volodya  and  gave  him  cour- 
age. 

"  So,  here  I  am  myself  on  the  Malakhov  Mound,  whicli 
I  had  imagined  a  thousand  times  more  terrible !  I,  too, 
can  walk  without  stooping  before  the  shells,  and  I  am 
less  frightened  than  the  rest !  So  I  am  not  a  coward ! " 
he  thought,  with  delight  and  even  with  a  certain  measure 
of  rapturous  self-satisfaction. 

This  sentiment  was  soon  shaken  by  the  spectacle  which 
he  encountered  at  dusk  in  the  Kornilov  battery,  while 
trying  to  find  the  chief  of  the  bastion.  Four  sailors,  near 
the  breastwork,  were  holding  a  blood-stained  corpse  of  a 
soldier  without  boots  and  overcoat,  and  were  swinging  it, 
in  their  attempt  to  throw  it  over  the  breastwork.  (On 
the  second  day  of  the  bombardment  they  did  not  in  all 
places  succeed  in  taking  all  the  bodies  away  from  the 
bastions,  and  so  they  threw  them  into  the  ditch  in  order 
to  get  them  out  of  the  way.) 

Volodya  stood  petrified  for  a  minute  when  he  saw  the 


452  SEVASTOPOL 

body  strike  the  top  of  the  breastwork  and  then  roll  down 
into  the  ditch  ;  but,  fortunately  for  him,  he  here  met  the 
chief  of  the  bastion,  who  gave  him  his  orders  and  provided 
him  with  a  guide  to  take  him  to  the  battery  and  to  the 
blindage  intended  for  his  crew.  We  shall  not  stop  to 
tell  how  many  more  dangers  and  disenchantments  our 
hero  passed  through  on  that  night ;  how,  instead  of  the 
tiring  which  he  had  seen  on  the  Volkhov  Field,  under  all 
the  conditions  of  precision  and  order,  which  he  had 
expected  to  find  here,  he  found  two  smashed  mortars,  the 
mouth  of  one  of  which  had  been  dented  by  a  cannon-ball, 
while  the  other  was  standing  on  the  splinters  of  a  demol- 
ished platform ;  how  he  could  not  get  any  workmen 
before  morning,  in  order  to  mend  the  platform ;  how  not 
a  single  charge  was  of  the  weight  laid  down  in  the 
Manual ;  how  two  soldiers  under  his  command  were 
wounded ;  and  how  his  life  had  been  hanging  on  a  hair 
more  than  twenty  times. 

Luckily  he  was  assisted  by  a  gun-captain  of  enormous 
size,  a  sailor,  who  had  been  with  the  mortars  in  the  begin- 
ning of  the  siege,  and  who  convinced  him  of  the  possi- 
bility of  putting  them  in  action.  He  led  him,  with  a 
lamp  in  his  hand,  all  night  through  the  bastion,  as  though 
it  were  his  garden,  and  promised  to  fix  everything  in  the 
morning. 

The  blindage  to  which  his  guide  took  him  had  been 
dug  out  in  the  stony  ground ;  it  was  an  elongated  ditch 
of  about  two  cubic  fathoms  in  size,  covered  with  oak  yard 
beams.  Here  he  took  up  his  position  with  all  his  sol- 
diers. The  moment  Viang  caught  sight  of  the  low  three- 
foot  door  of  the  blindage,  he  rushed  headlong  into  it 
before  all  the  rest,  and  almost  hurt  himself  against  the 
stone  floor,  in  trying  to  reach  the  farthest  corner,  from 
which  he  did  not  emerge.  When  all  the  soldiers  had 
seated  themselves  on  the  floor  along  the  wall,  and  some 
of  them  had  lighted  their  pipes,  Volodya  arranged  his  bed 


SEVASTOPOL  453 

in  the  corner,  lighted  a  candle,  began  to  smoke  a  cigarette, 
and  lay  down  on  the  cot. 

Above  the  blindage  continuous  reports  were  heard, 
but  not  very  loudly  except  from  one  gun,  which  stood 
near  by,  and  with  its  booming  shook  the  blindage.  In 
the  blindage  itself,  everything  was  quiet ;  but  now  and 
then  the  soldiers,  still  feeling  strauge  before  their  new 
officer,  would  talk  softly  to  each  other,  asking  this  one 
to  move  a  little  and  that  one  to  give  them  a  light  for 
their  pipes ;  or  a  rat  was  scratching  somewhere  between 
the  stones ;  or  Viang,  who  had  not  yet  regained  his  com- 
posure, and  wildly  looked  about  him,  suddenly  uttered  a 
loud  sigh.  Yolddya  on  his  bed,  in  his  quiet  corner 
crowded  by  people  and  lighted  up  by  one  caudle,  experi- 
enced the  sensation  of  comfort  which  used  to  come  Qver 
him  when  as  a  child  he  played  hide-and-seek  and  con- 
cealed himself  in  the  safe,  or  under  his  mother's  skirt, 
where,  not  daring  to  breathe,  he  listened  attentively,  and 
was  afraid  of  the  darkness,  but  at  the  same  time  derived 
pleasure  from  it.  He  was  both  a  little  ill  at  ease  and 
cheerful. 


XXI. 

Some  ten  minutes  later  the  soldiers  grew  bolder,  and 
began  to  converse.  Near  the  hght  and  the  officer's  bed, 
two  soldiers  of  more  importance,  being  cannoneers,  had 
taken  up  their  position :  one  of  them  was  gray-haired  and 
old,  and  had  all  the  medals  but  the  Cross  of  St.  George ; 
the  other,  a  young  cantonist,^  was  smoking  twisted 
cigarettes.  The  drummer,  as  usual,  took  upon  himself 
the  duty  of  waiting  on  the  officer.  The  bombardiers  and 
cavaliers  sat  next,  and  farther  in  the  shadow,  near  the 
door,  the  "  submissive  "  took  up  their  seats.  It  was  among 
the  latter  that  the  conversation  began.  The  cause  for  it 
was  the  noise  produced  by  a  man  who  darted  into  the 
blindage. 

"  Well,  brother,  you  could  not  sit  it  out  in  the  street  ? 
Are  the  girls  singing  merry  songs  ? "  said  one  voice. 

"  They  are  singing  marvellous  songs,  such  as  we  have 
never  heard  in  the  village,"  said,  smihug,  the  man  who 
had  rushed  into  the  blindage. 

"  Vasin  is  not  fond  of  bombs,  no,  he  isn't ! "  said  one 
in  the  aristocratic  corner. 

"  Well,  when  there  is  any  need,  it  is  a  different  matter  ! " 
slowly  spoke  Vasin,  and  whenever  he  said  something,  all 
the  others  kept  silent.  "  On  the  24th  there  was  a  terrible 
fire ;  but  what  is  there  bad  in  this  ?  You  will  only  be 
killed  uselessly,  and  the  authorities  don't  say  *  Thanks ' 
to  us  fellows  for  it." 

1  Soldiers  brought  up  since  early  childhood  in  special  colonies 
called  cantons. 

454 


SEVASTOPOL  455 

At  these  words  of  Vasin  all  laughed. 

"  Now  there  is  M(^lnikov,  and  he  is  all  the  time  sitting 
outside,"  somebody  remarked. 

"  Call  him  in,  that  M^luikov,"  added  the  old  cannoneer. 
"  Really,  he  will  he  only  killed,  for  nothing." 

"  Who  is  that  Meluikov  ? "  asked  Volodya. 

"  One  of  our  foolish  soldiers,  your  Honour.  He  is 
afraid  of  absolutely  nothing,  and  is  all  the  time  walking 
about  outside.  You  ought  to  see  him :  he  looks  just  like 
a  bear." 

"  He  knows  a  charm,"  Vasin  said,  in  a  drawling  voice, 
from  the  farther  corner. 

Mt^lnikov  entered  the  blindage.  He  was  stout  (this  is 
extraordinary  among  soldiers),  red-haired,  and  red  in  his 
face,  with  an  enormous  arched  brow,  and  bulging,  light 
blue  eyes. 

"  Are  you  afraid  of  the  bombs  ?  "  Volodya  asked  him. 

"  What  sense  is  there  in  being  afraid  of  Ijombs  ? "  re- 
plied M(51uikov,  crouching,  and  scratching  liimself.  "  I 
sha'n't  be  killed  by  a  bomb,  I  ktiow  that." 

"  So  you  would  like  to  live  here  ? " 

"  Of  course,  I  should  like  to.  It  is  jolly  here  ! "  he 
said,  suddenly  bursting  forth  in  a  laugh. 

"  Then  we  shall  have  to  take  you  out  on  a  sortie  !  If 
you  want  to,  I  will  tell  the  general,"  said  Volodya,  though 
he  did  not  know  a  single  general. 

"  Why  should  I  not  want  to  go  ?     I  do  want  to  !  " 

M^lnikov  disappeared  behind  the  others. 

"  Let  us  play  at  noski}  boys  !  Who  has  cards  ?  "  was 
heard  his  hurried  voice. 

Indeed,  in  a  short  time  a  game  was  started  in  the  far- 
ther corner,  and  one  could  hear  them  striking  the  nose, 
laughing,  and  calling  trumps.  Volodya  drank  some  tea 
from  the  samovar,  which  the  drummer  had  made  for  him, 

1 A  game  at  cards,  iu  which  the  loser  is  struck  on  the  uose  with 
the  cards. 


456  SEVASTOPOL 

treated  the  cannoneers,  joked,  talked  with  them,  wishing  to 
become  popular  with  them,  and  was  very  much  satisfied 
with  the  respect  which  they  showed  him.  The  soldiers, 
too,  talked  more  freely  when  they  noticed  that  their 
officer  was  a  simple  man.  One  of  them  was  saying  that 
the  siege  of  Sevastopol  would  soon  be  raised,  because  a 
reliable  naval  man  had  told  him  that  Constantine,  tlie 
Tsar's  brother,  was  coming  to  our  relief  with  a  Merican 
fleet,  and  that  soon  there  would  be  made  a  truce  not  to 
fire  for  two  weeks,  and  whosoever  should  fire  would  have 
to  pay  seventy-five  kopeks  for  every  shot. 

Vasin,  who,  as  Volddya  could  make  out,  was  a  small 
man,  with  large,  kindly  eyes  and  with  whiskers,  told, 
amidst  a  universal  silence,  and  then  laughter,  how,  when 
he  had  gone  home  on  a  leave  of  absence,  they  were  at 
first  delighted  to  see  liim,  but  how  later  his  father  sent 
him  out  to  work  and  the  forester  sent  his  carriage  for  his 
wife.  All  this  amused  Volodya  greatly.  He  not  only 
did  not  experience  the  slightest  fear  or  displeasure  from 
the  closeness  and  oppressive  odour  in  the  blindage,  but 
everything  was  cheerful  and  pleasant  to  him. 

Many  soldiers  were  snoring.  Viang,  too,  had  stretched 
himself  out  on  the  floor,  and  the  old  cannoneer,  having 
spread  his  overcoat  and  making  the  sign  of  the  cross, 
was  mumbling  some  prayers  before  his  sleep,  when  Vo- 
lodya took  it  into  his  head  to  go  out  and  see  what  was 
going  on. 

"  Eemove  your  legs ! "  the  soldiers  cried  to  each  other, 
when  he  got  up,  and  the  legs  drew  back  and  made  a  way 
for  him. 

Viang,  who  seemed  to  be  asleep,  suddenly  raised  his 
head  and  took  Volodya  by  the  fold  of  his  overcoat. 

"  Don't  go,  I  beg  you  !  What's  the  use  ?  "  he  said,  in 
a  tone  of  tearful  persuasiveness.  "You  do  not  know, 
evidently,  that  the  shells  are  falling  there  all  the  time " 
it  is  better  here." 


SEVASTOPOL  457 

In  spite  of  Viang's  entreaties,  Volddya  made  his  way 
out  of  the  blindage,  and  sat  down  on  the  threshold,  where 
M^lnikov  was  already  sitting. 

The  air  was  pure  and  fresh,  —  especially  as  compared 
with  the  blindage,  —  and  the  night  was  clear  and  calm. 
Amidst  the  roar  of  the  cannonade  could  be  heard  the 
sounds  of  the  wheels  and  carts  that  brought  the  gabions, 
and  the  conversation  of  the  men  working  on  a  powder- 
room.  Overhead  was  the  high  starry  heaven,  through 
which  constantly  flashed  the  fiery  streaks  of  the  bombs ; 
toward  the  left,  at  a  distance  of  three  feet,  a  small  open- 
ing led  into  another  bhndage,  in  which  could  be  seen  the 
legs  and  backs  of  the  sailors  who  were  living  in  it,  and 
could  be  heard  their  voices ;  in  front  was  visible  the 
elevation  of  the  powder-room,  past  which  flitted  the 
figures  of  stooping  men,  and  on  the  very  summit  of  which, 
under  the  bullets  and  bombs  which  uninterruptedly 
whistled  about  that  place,  stood  a  tall  form  in  a  black 
mantle,  with  its  hands  in  its  pockets,  stamping  down  the 
earth  which  others  brought  there  in  bags.  Quite  fre- 
quently a  bomb  flew  by  and  burst  near  the  powder-room. 
The  soldiers  who  were  carrying  the  dirt  crouched  and 
sidled,  but  the  black  figure  did  not  move ;  it  continued 
to  stamp  down  the  earth  with  its  feet,  remaining  all  the 
time  in  one  spot. 

"Who  is  that  black  figure?"  Volddya  asked  of  Mdl- 
nikov. 

"  I  do  not  know.     I  will  go  and  see." 

"  Don't  go  !     It  is  unnecessary." 

But  Melnikov  paid  no  attention,  got  up,  walked  over 
to  the  man  in  black,  and  for  quite  awhile  stood  just  as 
unconcerned  and  immovable  near  him. 

"  He  is  in  charge  of  the  powder-room,  your  Honour  ! " 
he  said,  upon  returning.  "  The  powder-room  has  been 
torn  up  by  a  bomb,  so  the  infantrymen  are  putting  on 
some  earth." 


458  SEVASTOPOL 

Occasionally  the  bombs  flew  straight  at  the  door  of 
the  bhudage,  it  seemed.  Then  Volodja  pressed  himself 
into  the  corner,  and  again  came  out  to  see  whether  they 
were  flying  in  his  direction.  Though  Viang,  inside  the 
blindage,  entreated  him  several  times  to  come  back, 
Volddya  remained  about  three  hours  on  the  threshold, 
experiencing  a  certain  pleasure  in  tempting  fate,  and 
watching  the  flight  of  the  bombs.  Toward  the  end  of 
the  evening  he  was  able  to  make  out  how  many  guns 
were  in  operation,  and  where  they  were  stationed,  and 
where  the  projectiles  lodged. 


I 


XXII. 

On  the  following  day,  the  27th,  Volddya,  after  a  ten 
hours'  sleep,  went  out  early  in  the  morning  on  the 
threshold  of  the  blindage,  feehng  refreshed  and  full  of 
life.  Viang  came  out  with  him,  but  at  the  first  sound 
of  a  bullet  he  rushed  headlong  into  the  opening  of  the 
blindage,  making  a  way  for  himself  with  his  head,  amidst 
the  universal  laughter  of  the  soldiers,  most  of  whom  had 
come  out  into  the  fresh  air.  Only  Viang,  the  old  cannoneer, 
and  a  few  others  rarely  went  out  into  the  trench ;  it  was 
impossible  to  keep  the  others  back :  all  of  them  rushed 
out  of  the  foul  blindage  into  the  fresh  morning  air,  and, 
in  spite  of  the  bombardment,  which  continued  as  severe 
as  on  the  previous  day,  they  lay  down  near  the  threshold 
and  the  breastwork.  Mi^lnikov  had  been  strolling  along 
the  batteries  ever  since  daybreak,  glancing  upwards  with 
indifference. 

Near  the  threshold  sat  two  old  soldiers  and  a  young 
curly-headed  Jew,  who  had  been  detailed  from  the 
infantry.  This  Jew  picked  up  a  bullet,  which  was  lying 
near  him,  and  with  a  piece  of  iron  flattened  it  against 
a  stone ;  then  he  cut  out  of  it  with  a  knife  a  cross  resem- 
bhng  the  Cross  of  St.  George;  the  others  were  talking 
and  watching  his  work.  The  cross  was  really  well 
made. 

"  If  we  are  to  stay  here  any  length  of  time,"  said  one 
of  them,  "  we  shall  get  our  discharge  as  soon  as  peace  is 
concluded." 

d59 


460  SEVASTOPOL 

"  Of  course.  I  have  only  four  years  left  to  my  dis- 
charge, and  I  have  passed  five  months  in  Sevastopol." 

"  That  does  not  count  toward  the  discharge,  do  you 
hear  ? "  said  another. 

Just  then  a  cannon-ball  whistled  past  the  heads  of  the 
speakers,  and  struck  the  ground  within  three  feet  of 
M^lnikov,  who  was  walking  up  to  them  in  the  trench. 

"  It  almost  killed  M^lnikov,"  said  one. 

"  No,  it  won't,"  replied  M^lnikov. 

"  Here,  take  this  cross  for  your  bravery,"  said  the 
young  soldier  who  had  made  the  cross,  and  handed  it 
to  M^luikov. 

"  No,  brother,  here  a  month  is  counted  a  year,  —  there 
was  such  an  order,"  they  continued  their  conversation. 

"  Take  it  as  you  please,  but  as  soon  as  peace  is  con- 
cluded, there  will  be  a  review  by  the  Tsar  at  Warsaw, 
and  if  they  will  not  give  us  our  discharge,  they  will  give 
us  an  unlimited  leave  of  absence." 

Suddenly  a  wliining,  deflected  bullet  flew  above  the 
heads  of  the  speakers,  and  struck  against  a  stone. 

"  If  you  don't  look  out,  you  will  get  a  clear  discharge 
before  evening,"  said  one  of  the  soldiers. 

Everybody  laughed. 
,    And  not  as  late  as  the  evening,  but  two  hours  later, 
two   of  them  received  a  clear  discharge,  and  five  were 
wounded ;  but  the  rest  joked  as  before. 

In  the  morning  tw^o  mortars  were  so  far  mended  that 
it  was  possible  to  shoot  from  them.  At  about  ten  o'clock, 
the  order  having  been  received  from  the  chief  of  the 
bastion,  Yolodya  called  out  his  command,  and  with  it 
went  to  the  battery. 

Not  a  particle  of  that  feeling  of  fear,  which  had  been 
expressed  in  the  soldiers'  faces  the  evening  before,  when 
they  first  came  out  for  their  work,  was  noticeable  in 
them  now.  Viang  alone  could  not  control  himself : 
he  kept  hiding  and  crouching  as  before,  and  Vasin  lost 


I 


SEVASTOPOL  461 

something  of  his  composure,  and  was  flurried  and  con- 
stantly squatted.  But  Volodya  was  in  a  rapturous  state  : 
the  thought  of  danger  did  not  even  occur  to  him.  The 
joy  of  doing  his  duty,  of  finding  himself  not  only  not 
a  coward,  but  even  a  brave  man,  the  sensation  of  com- 
manding, and  the  presence  of  twenty  men,  who,  he  knew, 
watched  him  with  curiosity,  made  of  him  a  gallant  fellow. 
He  was  even  proud  of  his  bravery,  showed  off  before  his 
soldiers,  walked  out  on  the  banquette,  and  purposely  un- 
buttoned his  overcoat  so  that  he  could  be  easily  noticed. 
The  chief  of  the  bastion,  who  at  this  time  was  making 
the  round  of  his  estate,  as  he  expressed  himself,  though 
he  had  become  accustomed  to  all  kinds  of  bravery  in  the 
last  eight  months,  could  not  help  admiring  this  handsome 
boy,  in  his  unbuttoned  overcoat,  beneath  which  could  be 
seen  a  red  shirt  clasping  a  white,  tender  neck,  with  his 
face  and  eyes  aflame,  clapping  his  hands,  and  command- 
ing in  a  sonorous  voice,  "  First,  second ! "  and  gaily 
rushing  out  on  the  breastwork  to  see  where  his  bomb 
would  settle.  At  half-past  eleven  the  firing  died  down 
on  both  sides,  and  precisely  at  twelve  o'clock  began  the 
storming  of  the  second,  third,  and  fifth  bastions  of  the 
Malakhov  Mound. 


XXIII. 

On  the  nearer  side  of  the  bay,  between  Inkerman  and 
the  Northern  fortification,  on  a  telegraph  mound,  two 
sailors  were  standing  about  noon-,  one,  an  officer,  was 
looking  through  the  telescope  at  Sevastopol,  and  the  other 
had  just  come  on  horseback  to  the  high  post  with  a 
Cossack. 

The  sun  stood  bright  and  high  above  the  bay,  which 
was  resplendent  with  a  gay,  warm  sheen,  as  it  swayed  its 
moored  ships  and  moving  sails  and  boats.  A  light  breeze 
barely  rustled  the  leaves  of  the  withering  oak  brush  near 
the  telegraph,  tilled  the  sails  of  the  boats,  and  rocked  the 
waves.  Sevastopol,  the  same  as  before,  with  its  unfin- 
ished church,  its  column,  its  quay,  its  boulevard,  gleaming 
in  its  green  colour  on  the  hill,  its  artistic  library  building, 
its  diminutive  azure  inlets,  filled  with  masts,  its  pictur- 
esque aqueduct  arches,  and  its  clouds  of  blue  powder 
smoke,  now  and  then  illuminated  by  the  purple  flame 
of  the  gun  fires,  —  the  same  proud,  festive  Sevastopol, 
surrounded  on  one  side  by  yellow  smoking  hills,  and  on 
the  other  by  the  bright  green  sea  glimmering  in  the 
sun,  was  visible  on  the  other  side  of  the  bay. 

Above  the  horizon  of  the  sea,  where  a  streak  of  black 
smoke  rose  from  a  steamer,  crept  a  long  white  cloud, 
portending  a  wind.  Along  the  whole  line  of  the  fortifica- 
tions, especially  along  the  hills  on  the  left  side,  constantly 
puffed  up  masses  of  thick,  compressed  white  smoke,  sev- 
eral at  a  time,  accompanied  by  flashes  which  now  and 
then  gleamed  forth  even  in  the  bright  midday  light ;  they 

463 


SEVASTOPOL  463 

spread,  assuming  various  forms,  rose  in  the  air,  and  were 
tinged  with  darker  hues  against  the  sky.  These  puffs, 
flashing  now  here,  now  there,  had  their  birth  on  the  hills, 
in  the  batteries  of  the  enemy,  in  the  city,  and  high  up  in 
the  air.  The  sounds  of  explosions  were  never  interrupted, 
and,  mingling,  shook  the  air. 

About  noon  the  puffs  of  smoke  became  rarer  and  rarer, 
and  the  atmosphere  was  less  shaken  by  the  booming  of 
the  cannon. 

"  The  second  bastion  is  not  returning  the  fire  at  all," 
said  the  officer  of  the  hussars,  who  was  on  horseback. 
"  It  is  all  smashed  !     It  is  terrible  ! " 

"  And  Malakhov  seems  to  be  returning  one  shot  to 
three  of  theirs,"  said  the  one  who  was  looking  through  the 
telescope.  "  It  drives  me  wild  to  hear  their  silence.  They 
are  continually  hitting  the  Kornilov  battery,  but  there  is 
no  reply." 

"  Just  see  !  I  told  you  that  they  always  stopped  bom- 
barding about  noon.  It  is  just  so  to-day.  Come,  let  us 
ride  to  our  breakfast  —  they  ?re  waiting  for  us  —  there  is 
ao  use  looking  —  " 

"  Wait,  don't  bother  me ! "  answered  the  one  who  was 
watching  through  the  glasses,  looking  with  unusual  curi- 
osity at  Sevastopol. 

"  What  is  it  ?     Wliat  ? " 

"  There  is  some  motion  in  the  trenches :  they  are 
marching  in  close  columns." 

"  That  can  be  seen  with  the  naked  eye,"  said  the  sailor. 
"  They  are  marching  in  columns.     I  must  give  a  signal." 

"  Look  there,  look !  They  have  come  out  of  the 
trenches." 

In  fact,  it  could  be  seen  with  the  naked  eye  that  dark 
spots  were  moving  down  the  hill,  across  the  ravine,  from 
the  French  batteries  to  the  bastions.  In  front  of  these 
dots  could  be  observed  dark  streaks  near  our  line.  In  the 
bastions  the  wliite  smoke  of  shots  puffed  up  in  different 


464  SEVASTOPOL 

places,  as  though  ruiiinng  across.  The  wind  carried  the 
sound  of  an  uninterrupted  musketry  tire,  hke  the  patter- 
ing of  the  rain  against  the  window-panes.  The  black 
streaks  moved  about  in  the  smoke,  coming  nearer  and 
nearer.  The  sounds  of  the  fusilade,  growing  stronger  and 
stronger,  blended  into  one  prolonged,  rumbling  peal.  The 
smoke,  rising  more  and  more  frequently,  passed  rapidly 
along  the  line  and  finally  fused  into  one  contracting  and 
expanding  lilac  cloud,  in  which  now  and  then  flashed 
fires  and  black  dots.  All  the  sounds  were  united  in  one 
rumbling,  crackhng  noise. 

"  An  assault ! "  said  the  officer,  with  a  pale  face,  passing 
the  telescope  to  the  sailor. 

Cossacks  galloped  by  along  the  road.  Officers  on  horse- 
back, the  commander-in-chief  in  a  carriage  and  accom- 
panied by  his  suite,  passed  by.  On  each  face  could  be 
seen  heavy  agitation  and  breathless  expectancy. 

"  It  is  impossible  they  should  have  taken  it ! "  said  the 
officer  on  horseback. 

"  Upon  my  word,  a  banner !  Look  !  look ! "  said  the 
other,  choking  with  excitement  and  going  away  from 
the  telescope.     "  A  French  banner  on  Maldkhov  Mound." 

"  Impossible ! " 


XXIV. 

KozELTSOV  the  elder,  who  had  managed  in  the  night 
to  win  back  all  he  had  lost  and  again  to  lose  everything, 
even  the  gold  coins  which  were  sewn  into  the  lining,  was 
early  in  the  morning  sleeping  an  unhealthy,  oppressive, 
but  profound  sleep  in  the  defensive  barracks  of  the  fifth 
bastion  when,  repeated  by  different  voices,  the  fatal  cry 
was  passed. 

"  Alarm ! " 

"  Get  up,  Mikhaylo  Sem^nych !  There  is  an  assault  1 " 
shouted  somebody. 

"  Some  schoolboy,"  he  said,  incredulously,  opening  his 
eyes. 

But  suddenly  he  saw  an  officer  who  was  running  with- 
out^any  obvious  purpose  from  one  corner  into  another  and 
with  such  a  pale  face  that  he  understood  everything. 
The  thought  that  he  might  be  taken  for  a  coward  who 
did  not  wish  to  go  out  with  his  company  at  a  critical 
minute  affected  him  powerfully.  He  flew  to  his  company 
at  full  speed.  The  firing  from  the  ordnance  had  stopped, 
but  the  crackling  of  the  musketry  fire  was  at  full  blast. 
The  bullets  whistled  not  one  at  a  time,  as  from  carbines, 
but  in  swarms,  like  birds  of  passage  in  the  autumn,  flying 
overhead.  The  whole  place,  where  the  day  before  had 
stood  his  battahon,  was  shrouded  in  smoke,  and  there  were 
heard  discordant  cries  and  shouts.  Soldiers,  wounded  and 
not  wounded,  he  encountered  in  throngs.  After  running 
some  thirty  paces  more  he  saw  his  company  pressing 
against  the  wall. 

^5 


466  SEVASTOPOL 

"They  have  taken  Schwartz,"  said  a  young  officer. 
"  Everything  is  lost !  " 

"  Nonsense,"  he  said,  angrily,  drawing  his  small  dull 
iron  sword  and  shouting : 

"  Forward,  boys  !     Hurrah  ! " 

His  voice  was  loud  and  sonorous.  It  awoke  Kozeltsov 
himself.  He  ran  ahead  along  the  traverse.  About  fifty 
soldiers  rushed  after  him.  He  ran  out  from  behind  the 
traverse  upon  the  open  square.  Bullets  flew  literally  like 
hail.  Two  of  them  struck  him  ;  but  where,  and  what 
they  had  done,  whether  they  had  bruised  or  wounded 
him,  he  had  no  time  to  decide.  In  front  of  him  he  could 
in  the  smoke  see  blue  uniforms,  red  trousers,  and  hear  the 
sounds  cf  a  foreign  speech.  One  Frenchman  was  stand- 
ing on  the  breastwork,  waving  his  cap  and  shouting  some- 
thing. Kozeltsov  was  convinced  that  he  would  be  killed, 
and  this  gave  him  more  courage.  He  ran  forward,  ever 
onward.  A  few  soldiers  outran  him.  Other  soldiers 
appeared  from  both  sides  and  were  running  too.  The 
blue  uniforms  remained  at  the  same  distance,  running 
from  him  back  to  their  trenches,  but  under  his  feet  he 
stepped  on  wounded  and  dead  soldiers.  Having  reached 
the  outer  ditch  everything  became  confused  in  Kozeltsov's 
eyes  and  he  felt  a  pain  in  his  breast. 

Half  an  hour  later  he  lay  on  a  stretcher  near  the 
Nicholas  barracks  and  he  knew  that  he  was  wounded ; 
but  he  felt  hardly  any  pain.  All  he  wanted  was  to  get 
something  cold  to  drink  and  to  lie  down  quietly. 

A  short  fat  doctor  with  large  black  whiskers  went  up 
to  him  and  unbuttoned  his  overcoat.  Kozeltsov  looked 
down  his  chin  at  what  the  doctor  was  doing  with  his 
wound  and  at  the  doctor's  face,  but  he  felt  no  pain.  The 
doctor  covered  the  wound  with  the  shirt,  wiped  his  fingers 
on  the  folds  of  his  overcoat,  and  silently,  without  looking 
at  the  wounded  officer,  walked  over  to  another.  Kozel- 
ts6v  unconsciously  followed  with  his  eyes  everything  that 


SEVASTOPOL  467 

was  going  on  in  his  presence,  and,  recalling  what  had 
happened  in  the  fifth  bastion,  thought  with  an  extremely 
pleasant  sensation  of  self-satisfaction  of  his  having  well 
executed  his  duty,  of  having  for  the  first  time  during  his 
service  acted  well,  and  of  having  no  cause  whatsoever  for 
regrets.  The  doctor,  who  was  dressing  the  wound  of  an- 
other wounded  soldier,  pointed  to  Kozeltsov  and  said  some- 
thing to  a  priest  with  a  long  red  beard  who  was  standing 
near  by  with  a  cross. 

"  Shall  I  die  ? "  Kozeltsov  asked  the  priest,  when  the 
latter  went  up  to  him. 

The  priest  did  not  reply,  but  said  a  prayer,  and  handed 
the  cross  to  the  wounded  man. 

Death  did  not  frighten  Kozeltsov.  He  took  the  cross 
with  his  feeble  hands,  pressed  it  to  his  lips,  and  sobbed. 

"  Well,  have  the  French  been  repulsed  ? "  he  firmly 
asked  the  priest. 

"  Victory  is  entirely  with  us,"  replied  the  priest,  in 
order  to  console  the  wounded  man,  concealing  from  him 
the  fact  that  on  Malakhov  Mound  the  French  banner  was 
already  floating. 

"  Thank  God,"  said  the  wounded  man,  unconscious  of 
the  tears  that  coursed  down  his  cheeks. 

The  thought  of  his  brother  for  an  instant  crossed  his 
mind.  "  God  grant  him  the  same  good  fortune ! "  he 
thought. 


XXV. 

But  a  different  fate  awaited  Volddya.  He  was  listen- 
ing to  a  fable,  which  Vasin  was  telling  him,  when  there 
came  the  shout,  "  The  French  are  coming  ! "  The  blood 
rushed  at  once  to  Volodya's  heart,  and  he  felt  his  cheeks 
grow  cold  and  pale.  He  remained  motionless  for  a 
second ;  but,  on  looking  around,  he  saw  that  the  soldiers 
were  buttoning  their  overcoats  with  a  great  deal  of  com- 
posure, and  leaving  the  blindage  one  after  another ;  one 
of  them,  M^lnikov  in  all  probability,  said,  jestingly : 

"  Meet  them  with  bread  and  salt,  boys  ! " 

Volddya  crept  with  Viang,  who  did  not  leave  liim  a 
pace's  length,  out  of  the  blindage,  and  ran  to  the  battery. 
There  was  no  artillery  fire,  neither  on  this,  nor  on  the 
other  side.  He  was  roused  not  so  much  by  the  sight  of 
the  soldiers'  composure,  as  at  the  yunker's  pitiable,  undis- 
guised cowardice.  "  Is  it  possible  I  could  be  like  him  ?  " 
he  thought,  and  cheerfully  ran  to  the  breastwork,  near 
which  stood  his  mortars.  He  could  plainly  see  how  the 
French  were  running  straight  at  him  across  the  clear 
space,  and  how  crowds  of  them,  with  their  bayonets 
gleaming  in  the  sun,  were  stirring  in  the  nearest  trenches. 

A  short,  broad-shouldered  man,  in  a  zouave  uniform 
and  short  sword,  was  running  in  front  and  leaping  over 
ditches.  "  Fire  the  canister-shot ! "  shouted  Volddya, 
running  down  from  the  banquette ;  but  the  soldiers  had 
taken  measures  without  him,  and  the  metallic  sound  of 
the  discharged  canister-shot  whistled  over  his  head,  first 
from  one  mortar,  and  then  from  the  other.     "  The  first ! 

468 


SEVASTOPOL  469 

The  second ! "  commanded  Volodya,  running  along  from 
one  mortar  to  another,  entirely  forgetful  of  the  danger. 
On  both  sides  of  him  were  heard  the  crackling  of  the 
musketry  fire  of  our  epaulement,  and  the  shouts  of 
bustling  people. 

Suddenly  a  piercing  cry  of  despair,  repeated  by  several 
voices,  was  heard  on  the  left :  "  They  are  outflanking  us  ! 
They  are  outflanking  us !"  Volodya  turned  back  to  look 
in  the  direction  of  the  cries.  Some  twenty  Frenchmen 
appeared  from  behind.  One  of  them,  with  a  black  beard, 
a  handsome  man,  was  in  the  lead;  having  run  up  to 
within  ten  steps  of  the  battery,  he  stopped  and  fired 
straight  at  Volodya,  then  again  ran  toward  him.  For  a 
second  Volodya  stood  as  if  petrified,  and  did  not  trust  his 
eyes.  When  he  regained  his  senses  and  looked  around, 
the  blue  uniforms  appeared  in  front  of  him,  on  the  breast- 
work ;  and  witliin  ten  paces  of  him  two  Frenchmen  were 
spiking  a  cannon.  Around  liim  was  no  one  but  M^lni- 
kov,  who  had  been  killed  at  his  side,  and  Viang,  who  had 
seized  a  handspike  and,  with  a  furious  expression  on  his 
face  and  with  downcast  pupils,  had  rushed  forward. 

"  Follow  me,  Vladimir  Sem(5nych  !  After  me  ! "  cried 
the  desperate  voice  of  Viang,  who  was  flourishing  the 
handspike  in  the  face  of  the  Frenchmen  who  had  come 
up  from  behind.  The  furious  figure  of  the  yunker  baffled 
them.  To  the  one  in  front  he  dealt  a  blow  on  the  head, 
the  others  involuntarily  stopped,  and  Viang,  continually 
looking  around  and  crying,  "After  me,  Vladimir  Sem^- 
nych !  Why  do  you  stand  ?  Run ! "  dashed  down  to 
the  trench,  where  lay  our  infantry,  shooting  at  the 
French.  After  leaping  into  the  trench,  he  again  raised 
his  head  from  it,  to  see  what  his  beloved  ensign  was 
doing.  Something,  wrapped  in  an  overcoat,  was  lying 
prone  in  the  place  where  Volodya  had  been  standing,  and 
all  that  place  was  occupied  by  Frenchmen  firing  at  us. 


I 


XXVI. 

Vlang  found  his  battery  on  the  second  defensive  line. 
Out  of  tlie  number  of  twenty  soldiers  who  had  been  with 
the  mortar  battery,  only  eight  had  saved  themselves. 

At  nine  o'clock  in  the  evening,  Viang  with  his  battery 
crossed  to  the  Northern  side  on  a  steamer  that  was  filled  with 
soldiers,  guns,  horses,  and  wounded.  There  was  no  firing. 
The  stars  gleamed  brightly  in  the  sky  as  on  the  previous 
night ;  but  a  stiff  breeze  was  agitating  the  sea.  In  the 
first  and  second  bastions  fires  flashed  low  to  the  ground ; 
explosions  shook  the  air  and  illuminated  about  them 
straage  black  objects  and  the  stones  that  were  flying  in 
the  air.  Something  was  on  fire  near  the  docks,  and  the 
red  flames  were  reflected  in  the  water.  The  bridge,  filled 
with  people,  was  lighted  up  by  the  fire  from  the  Nicholas 
battery.  A  large  flame  seemed  to  be  hovering  over  the 
water  on  the  distant  promontory  of  the  Alexander  battery, 
illuminating  the  lower  part  of  a  cloud  of  smoke  that  hung 
over  it,  and  the  same  quiet,  bold,  distant  fires  glimmered 
on  the  sea  from  the  hostile  fleet.  A  fresh  breeze  swayed 
the  bay.  In  the  light  of  the  burning  structures  could  be 
seen  the  masts  of  our  sinking  vessels  disappearing  deeper 
and  deeper  in  the  water. 

There  was  no  conversation  on  deck ;  only,  between  the 
even  sounds  of  the  parted  waves  and  the  puffing  chimney, 
one  could  hear  the  horses  snorting  and  stamping  their 
feet  on  the  ferry,  the  orders  of  tlie  captain,  and  the  groans 
of  the  wounded.  Viang,  who  had  not  eaten  anything  the 
whole  day,  drew  a  piece  of  bread  from  his  pocket  and 

470 


SEVASTOPOL  471 

began  to  munch  it,  but  suddenly  he  thought  of  Volddya, 
and  began  to  weep  so  loudly  that  the  soldiers,  who  sat 
near  him,  could  hear  it. 

"  I  declare,  our  Vlanga  is  eating  bread  by  himself  and 
weeping  by  himself,"  said  Vasin. 

"  Wonderful !  "  said  another, 

"  See  there,  they  have  set  fire  to  our  barracks,"  con- 
tinued he,  sigliiug.  "  How  many  of  our  brothers  have 
lost  their  lives  there  !     And  after  all  the  French  got  it !  " 

"  At  least  we  got  out  alive,  and  the  Lord  be  praised  for 
that ! "  said  Vasin, 

"  Still  it  is  aggravating  !  " 

"What  is  aggravating?  Do  you  suppose  he  will  have 
an  easy  time  here  ?  Not  a  bit  of  it !  You  will  see,  ours 
will  take  it  back!  No  matter  how  many  of  us  shall  be 
killed,  let  God  want  it,  and  the  emperor  wish  it,  and  it 
will  be  retaken !  Do  you  think  we  will  leave  it  to  Mm.  ? 
Not  a  bit  of  it !  Nothing  but  the  bare  walls  left :  the 
bulwarks  are  blown  up  —  he  has  placed  his  pennon  on 
the  Mound,  but  dares  not  go  down  to  the  city." 

"Just  wait,  we  will  square  up  accounts  with  you, — 
just  give  us  a  chance."  he  concluded,  addressing  the 
Frenchmen, 

"  Of  course  we  will ! "  said  another,  mth  conviction. 

All  along  the  bastions  of  Sevastopol,  which  liad  for  so 
many  months  been  boiling  with  such  extraordinary  ener- 
getic life,  which  had  for  so  many  months  seen  heroes 
taking  the  place  of  those  who  had  been  killed,  only  to 
die  themselves,  and  which  for  so  many  months  had 
inspired  terror,  hatred,  and  finally  the  raptures  of  the 
enemy,  all  along  the  bastions  of  Sevastopol  there  was 
nobody  left.  Everything  was  dead,  wild,  terrible,  but 
not  quiet ;  the  work  of  destruction  was  still  going  on. 
On  the  uneven  ground,  ploughed  up  by  new  explosions, 
lay  everywhere  twisted  gun-carriages,  jamming  down  the 
corpses  of  Eussian  and  French  soldiers ;  heavy  cast-iron 


472  SEVASTOPOL 

cannon,  for  ever  silenced  and  by  a  tremendous  force  hurled 
down  into  ditches  and  half-covered  with  dirt,  bombs, 
shells ;  again  corpses,  ditches,  splinters  of  beams,  of 
blindages,  and  again  silent  corpses  in  gray  and  blue  over- 
coats. All  this  was  frequently  convLilsed  and  illuminated 
by  the  purple  flame  of  explosions,  which  continued  to 
shake  the  air. 

The  enemies  saw  that  something  incomprehensible  was 
taking  place  in  Sevastopol.  These  explosions  and  the 
dead  silence  in  the  bastions  made  them  shudder ;  but  they 
did  not  dare  to  believe,  under  the  influence  of  the  quiet, 
forceful  defence  of  the  day,  that  their  imperturbable  foe 
had  disappeared,  and  they  awaited  in  silence,  without 
stirring,  and  with  trepidation,  the  end  of  the  gloomy 
night. 

The  army  of  Sevastopol,  like  the  sea  in  a  gloomy,  bil- 
lowing night,  surging  and  receding,  and  agitatedly  quiv- 
ering in  all  its  mass,  swaying  near  the  bay,  on  the  bridge 
and  on  the  Northern  side,  moved  slowly  in  the  impene- 
trable darkness,  away  from  the  place,  where  it  had  left  so 
many  brave  brothers,  —  away  from  the  plaee,  which  had 
been  watered  by  its  blood,  —  from  the  place,  which  for 
eleven  months  had  withstood  an  enemy  twice  as  numerous, 
and  which  now  it  was  to  abandon  without  a  battle. 

The  first  impression  of  this  order  was  incomprehen- 
sibly heavy  for  every  liussian.  The  next  feeling  was 
a  fear  of  being  pursued.  Men  felt  themselves  defenceless 
the  moment  they  left  the  places  where  they  had  been 
accustomed  to  fight,  and  with  trepidation  crowded  at  the 
entrance  of  the  bridge,  which  swayed  in  the  stiff  breeze. 
Clanking  their  bayonets  against  each  other,  crowding 
between  the  baggage  and  ordnance,  the  infantry  were 
making  their  way  with  difficulty;  ofi&cers  on  horseback 
carrying  orders  pushed  their  way  through  the  masses ; 
the  inhabitants  and  orderlies,  with  their  baggage  which 
was  not  permitted  across,  wept  and  entreated  in  vain  ;  the 


SEVASTOPOL  473 

artillery,  with  rattling  wheels,  descended  to  the  bay, 
hastening  to  get  away  as  soon  as  possible. 

Aside  from  their  different  absorbing  occupations,  the  feel- 
ing of  self-preservation  and  the  desire  to  get  away  at  once 
from  this  terrible  place  of  death  was  present  in  the  soul  of 
each.  This  feeling  was  present  in  the  mortally  wounded 
soldier,  lying  among  five  hundred  similarly  wounded 
men,  on  the  stony  ground  of  the  St.  Paul's  quay  and 
asking  for  death ;  in  the  reserve  militiaman,  using  his 
utmost  effort  to  press  himself  into  the  dense  throng,  in 
order  to  make  way  for  the  general  on  horseback ;  in  the 
general,  superintending  with  firmness  the  retreat  across 
the  bay,  and  restraining  the  undue  haste  of  the  soldiers ; 
in  the  sailor,  caught  in  the  moving  battalion  and  almost 
choked  to  death  by  a  swaying  throng  ;  in  the  wounded 
officer,  carried  on  a  stretcher  by  four  soldiers,  who,  op- 
pressed by  the  congested  mass,  put  him  down  on  the 
ground  near  the  Nicholas  battery ;  in  the  artillerist,  who, 
having  served  with  his  gun  for  sixteen  years,  was  now 
executing  an  order  of  his  superiors,  quite  incomprehensible 
to  him,  and  with  the  aid  of  his  comrades  pushing  the  gun 
down  the  steep  embankment  into  the  bay ;  and  in  the 
sailors  of  the  fleet,  who,  having  scuttled  their  vessels, 
were  giving  way  on  the  boats  in  which  they  were  rowing 
away  from  them. 

Upon  reaching  the  other  side  of  the  bridge,  nearly  every 
soldier  took  off  his  cap  and  made  the  sign  of  the  cross.  But 
behind  this  feeling  was  another,  oppressive,  gnawing,  deeper 
feeling,  one  that  resembled  repentance,  shame,  and  anger. 
Nearly  every  soldier,  looking  from  the  Northern  side  upon 
deserted  Sevastopol,  sighed  with  an  inexpressible  bitter- 
ness in  his  heart,  and  swore  vengeance  on  the  foe. 


I 


THE    CUTTING    OF    THE 
FOREST 

The    Story    of  a    Yunker 
1854-1855 


THE    CUTTING    OF    THE 
FOREST 

The  Story  of  a  Yunker 


In  midwinter  of  185-  the  division  of  our  battery 
was  doing  frontier  service  in  the  Great  Chechnya.  Hav- 
ing learned,  on  the  evening  of  the  14th  of  February,  that 
the  platoon,  which  I  was  to  command  in  the  absence  of 
the  officer,  was  detailed  for  the  following  day  to  cut 
timber,  and  having  received  and  given  the  proper  orders 
on  that  very  evening,  I  repaired  earlier  than  usual  to  my 
tent ;  as  I  did  not  have  the  bad  habit  of  warming  it  up 
with  burning  coal,  I  lay  down  in  my  clothes  on  my  beef, 
which  was  constructed  of  paling,  drew  my  lambskin  cap 
down  to  my  eyes,  wrapped  myself  in  a  fur  coat,  and  fell 
into  that  peculiar,  profound,  and  heavy  sleep  which  one 
sleeps  in  moments  of  alarm  and  agitation  before  an  im- 
minent peril.  The  expectancy  of  the  engagement  of  the 
following  day  had  induced  that  condition  in  me. 

At  three  o'clock  in  the  morning,  while  it  was  still  very 
dark,  somebody  pulled  the  warm  fur  coat  from  me,  and 
the  purple  light  of  a  candle  disagreeably  startled  my 
sleepy  eyes. 

"  Please  get  up ! "  said  somebody's  voice.     I  closed  my 

477 


478  THE    CUTTING    OF    THE    FOREST 

eyes,  unconsciously  pulled  the  fur  coat  over  me,  and  again 
fell  asleep.  "  Please  get  up  ! "  repeated  Dmitri,  pitilessly 
shaking  me  by  the  shoulder.  "  The  infantry  is  starting." 
I  suddenly  recalled  the  actuality,  shuddered,  and  sprang 
to  my  feet.  Having  swallowed  in  a  hurry  a  glass  of  tea 
and  washed  myself  with  ice-crusted  water,  I  went  out  of 
the  tent  and  walked  over  to  the  park  (the  place  where 
the  ordnance  is  stationed). 

It  was  dark,  misty,  and  cold.  The  night  fires,  which 
glimmered  here  and  there  in  the  camp,  lighting  up  the 
figures  of  the  drowsy  soldiers  who  were  lying  about  them, 
only  intensified  the  darkness  by  their  purple  glamour. 
Near  by  one  could  hear  the  even,  calm  snoring  of  men  ;  in 
the  distance  there  was  the  motion,  talking,  and  clanking 
of  the  infantry's  weapons,  getting  ready  for  the  march ; 
there  was  an  odour  of  smoke,  dung,  slow-matches,  and 
mist ;  a  morning  chill  ran  down  one's  back,  and  one's 
teeth  involuntarily  clattered  against  each  other. 

By  the  snorting  and  occasional  stamping  alone  could 
one  make  out,  in  this  impenetrable  darkness,  where  the 
hitched-up  limbers  and  caissons  were  standing,  and  only 
by  the  burning  dots  of  the  linstocks  could  one  tell  where 
the  ordnance  was.  With  the  words,  "  God  be  with  you  ! " 
the  first  gun  began  to  clatter,  then  the  caisson  rattled, 
and  the  platoon  was  on  the  move.  We  took  off  our 
hats  and  made  the  sign  of  the  cross.  Having  taken  up  its 
position  among  the  infantry,  the  platoon  stopped,  and  for 
about  fiJteen  minutes  awaited  the  drawing  up  of  the  whole 
column  and  the  arrival  of  the  commander. 

"  We  lack  one  soldier,  Nikolay  Petrovich ! "  said, 
approaching  me,  a  black  figure,  which  I  recognized  by 
the  voice  only  as  being  that  of  the  platoon  gun-sergeant, 
Maksimov. 

"Who  is  it?" 

"  Velenchiik  is  not  here.  As  we  were  hitching  up,  he 
was  here,  and  I  saw  him,  but  now  he  is  gone." 


THE  CUTTING  OF  THE  FOREST       479 

As  there  was  no  reason  to  suppose  that  the  column 
would  march  at  once,  we  decided  to  send  Lance  Corporal 
Antdnov  to  find  Velenchiik.  Soon  after,  several  horse- 
men galloped  past  us  in  the  darkness :  that  was  the  com- 
mander with  his  suite ;  immediately  there  was  a  stir,  the 
van  of  the  column  started,  and  then  we  began  to  march, 
—  but  Antdnov  and  Velenchuk  were  not  with  us.  We 
had  scarcely  taken  one  hundred  steps,  when  both  soldiers 
caught  up  with  us. 

"  Where  was  he  ? "  I  asked  of  Antdnov. 

"  Asleep  in  the  park." 

"  Is  he  drunk  ? " 

"  No,  sir." 

"  Why,  then,  did  he  go  to  sleep  ? " 

"  I  can't  tell  you." 

For  something  like  three  hours  we  moved  slowly  in  the 
same  silence  and  darkness  over  unploughed,  snowless  fields 
and  low  bushes,  which  crackled  under  the  wheels  of  the 
ordnance.  Finally,  after  fording  a  shallow,  but  extremely 
rapid  torrent,  we  halted,  and  in  the  van  could  be  heard 
intermittent  volleys  of  musketry.  These  sounds,  as  al- 
ways, had  an  awakening  effect  upon  all.  The  detachment 
seemed  to  have  wakened  from  slumber:  in  the  ranks 
could  be  heard  conversation,  animation,  and  laughter. 
Some  soldiers  were  wrestling  with  their  comrades ;  others 
leaped  now  on  one  foot,  now  on  another;  others  again 
were  munching  their  hardtack,  or,  to  pass  the  time,  pre- 
tended to  stand  sentry  or  keep  time  walking.  In  the 
meantime  the  mist  was  becoming  perceptibly  wliite  in 
the  east,  the  dampness  grew  more  penetrating,  and  the 
surrounding  objects  emerged  more  and  more  from  the 
darkness.  I  could  discern  the  green  gun-carriages  and 
caissons,  the  brass  of  the  ordnance,  covered  by  a  misty 
dampness,  the  familiar  forms  of  my  soldiers,  and  the  bay 
horses,  which  I  had  involuntarily  learned  to  know  down 
to  their  minutest  details,  and  the  rows  of  the  infantry, 


480  THE   CUTTING   OF   THE   FOREST 

with  their  sparkling  bayonets,  knapsacks,  wad-hooks,  and 
kettles  over  their  backs. 

Shortly  afterward  we  were  again  put  in  motion,  taken 
a  couple  of  hundred  steps  across  the  field,  and  had  a  place 
pointed  out  to  us.  On  the  right  could  be  seen  the  steep 
bank  of  a  winding  brook  and  tall  wooden  posts  of  a 
Tartar  cemetery ;  on  the  left  and  in  front  of  us  shim- 
mered a  black  streak,  through  the  mist.  The  platoon 
came  down  from  the  limbers.  The  eighth  company, 
which  was  flanking  us,  stacked  arms,  and  a  battalion  of 
soldiers  went  into,  the  woods  with  guns  and  axes. 

Less  than  five  minutes  had  elapsed  when  on  all  sides 
crackled  and  burned  camp-fires;  the  soldiers  scattered 
about  them,  fanning  the  fire  with  their  hands  and  feet, 
carrying  boughs  and  logs,  and  in  the  forest  resounded 
without  interruption  hundreds  of  axes  and  falling  trees. 

The  artillerists,  vying  with  the  infantrymen,  had  made 
a  fire  of  their  own,  and  though  it  was  burning  so  well  that 
it  was  impossible  to  come  witliin  two  paces  of  it,  and  a 
dense  smoke  was  passing  through  the  ice-crusted  branches, 
from  which  drops  fell  sizzling  into  the  fire,  and  which  the 
soldiers  kept  pressing  down  with  their  feet,  and  though 
coal  had  formed  underneath  the  fire,  and  the  grass  was 
burnt  white  all  around  it,  —  the  soldiers  were  not  yet  sat- 
isfied ;  they  dragged  up  whole  logs,  threw  steppe-grass 
upon  it,  and  fanned  it  more  and  more. 

As  I  went  up  to  the  camp-fire  to  hght  a  cigarette, 
Velenchuk,  who  was  always  officious,  but  who  now, 
having  failed  in  his  duty,  was  unduly  busy  about  the 
fire,  in  an  attack  of  zeal  pulled  out  with  his  naked  hand 
a  burning  coal  from  the  very  middle,  and,  vaulting  it  a 
couple  of  times  from  one  hand  to  another,  threw  it  down 
on  the  ground. 

"  You  had  better  light  a  stick  and  hand  it,"  said  some 
one. 

"  Hand  him  the  linstock,  boys ! "  cried  another. 


I 


THE    CUTTING   OF    THE    FOREST  481 

Wheu  I  finally  lighted  my  cigarette  without  Velen- 
chiik's  aid,  who  was  again  ready  to  pick  up  the  coal 
with  his  hands,  he  wiped  his  singed  fingers  against  the 
hind  skirts  of  his  fur  coat,  and,  evidently  anxious  to  be 
doing  something,  lifted  a  large  plane-tree  log  and  flung  it 
into  the  fire  with  all  his  might.  When,  at  last,  it  seemed 
to  him  that  it  was  time  to  ro^t  himself,  he  went  up  as 
near  as  he  could  to  the  burning  wood,  spread  his  over- 
coat, which  he  wore  hke  a  mantle  on  the  back  button, 
extended  in  front  of  him  his  large  black  hands,  and, 
distorting  his  mouth  a  little,  blinked  with  his  eyes. 

"  Ah,  I  have  forgotten  my  pipe.  That's  bad,  brothers  !  " 
he  said,  after  a  moment's  silence,  and  addressing  no  one  in 
particular. 


It 

In  Russia  there  are  three  prevailing  types  of  soldiers, 
among  which  may  be  classed  the  soldiers  of  all  tlie  armies  : 
of  the  Caucasus,  the  hue,  the  guards,  the  infantry,  the 
cavalry,  the  artillery,  and  so  forth. 

These  cliief  types,  capable  of  many  subdivisions  and 
bleudings,  are  the  following : 

(1)  The  submissive. 

(2)  The  commanding. 

(3)  The  desperate. 

The  submissive  soldiers  may  be  subdivided  into  (a) 
indifferently  submissive  and  (b)  busily  submissive. 

The  commanding  may  be  subdivided  into  (a)  austerely 
commanding  and  (b)  sagaciously  commanchng. 

The  desperate  may  be  sulxlivided  into  (a)  desperate 
jokers  and  (h)  desperate  debauchees. 

The  commonest  type  is  a  gentle,  sympathetic  type, 
which  unites  the  best  Christian  virtues,  meekness,  piety, 
patience,  and  submission  to  the  will  of  God,  and  is  that 
of  the  submissive  in  general.  The  distinctive  features  of 
an  indifferently  submissive  soldier  are  an  imperturbable 
calm  and  contempt  for  all  the  vicissitudes  of  fortune  to 
which  he  may  be  subjected.  The  distinctive  feature  of 
the  submissive  drunkard  is  a  quiet,  poetical  inclination 
and  sentimentality.  The  distinctive  feature  of  the  busily 
submissive  is  a  limited  mental  capacity,  united  with  an 
aimless  industry  and  zeal. 

The  commanding  type  is  found  preponderantly  in  the 
higher  spheres  of  the  non-commissioned  officers,  among 

482 


THE  CUTTING  OF  THE  FOREST       483 

corporals,  under-officers,  sergeants,  and  so  forth.  Among 
these,  the  austerely  commanding  type  is  noble,  energetic, 
preeminently  martial,  and  not  devoid  of  high  poetical 
impulses.  To  this  type  belonged  Corporal  Antonov,  with 
whom  I  intend  to  acquaint  the  reader.  The  second  sub- 
division is  formed  by  the  sagaciously  commanding,  who 
of  late  have  been  getting  quite  common.  A  sagaciously 
commanding  non-commissioned  officer  is  always  eloquent, 
knows  how  to  read  and  write,  wears  a  pink  sliirt,  does  not 
eat  from  the  common  kettle,  at  times  smokes  Musat 
tobacco,  considers  himself  incomparably  higher  than  a 
common  soldier,  and  is  rarely  as  good  a  soldier  as  the 
commanding  of  the  first  order. 

The  desperate  type,  like  the  commanding  type,  is  good 
only  in  the  first  subdivision :  the  distinctive  traits  of 
desperate  jokers  are  their  imperturbable  cheerfulness,  their 
ability  to  do  everything,  a  well-endowed  nature,  and  dash- 
ing spirit  of  adventure ;  this  type  is  just  as  dreadfully 
bad  in  the  second  subdivision  of  desperate  debauchees, 
who,  however,  to  the  honour  of  the  Eussian  army  be  it 
said,  occur  very  rarely,  and  wherever  they  are  found  are 
removed  from  companionship  by  the  community  of  the 
soldiers  themselves.  The  chief  characteristics  of  this  sub- 
division are  faithlessness  and  a  certain  adventurousness 
in  vice. 

Velenchuk  belonged  to  the  order  of  the  busily  submis- 
sive. He  was  a  Little-Eussian  by  birth,  fifteen  years  in 
active  service,  and  though  not  a  very  fine-appearing  man, 
and  not  a  very  agile  soldier,  he  was  simple-hearted, 
kindly,  overzealous,  though  generally  inopportunely  so, 
and  exceedingly  honest.  I  say  "  exceedingly  honest," 
because  the  year  before  there  had  been  an  incident  when 
he  had  very  palpably  displayed  this  characteristic  quality. 
It  must  be  remarked  that  nearly  every  soldier  has  some 
trade ;  the  most  popular  trades  are  those  of  a  tailor  and 
a  shoemaker.     Velenchuk  had  learned  the  first,  and,  to 


484  THE   CUTTING   OF    THE    FOREST 

judge  from  the  fact  that  Sergeant  Mikhail  Dorof^ich 
himself  had  him  make  his  clothes  for  him,  he  must  have 
reached  a  certain  artistic  perfection  in  it. 

The  year  before,  while  in  camp,  Velenchilk  had  under- 
taken to  make  a  fine  overcoat  for  Mikhail  Dorofeich ;  but 
in  the  night,  when,  after  cutting  the  cloth  and  fixing  the 
lining,  he  lay  down  to  sleep  with  the  goods  under  his 
head,  a  misfortune  befell  him  :  the  cloth,  which  had  cost 
seven  roubles,  had  disappeared.  With  tears  in  liis  eyes, 
trembling  lips,  and  restrained  sobs,  Velenchilk  announced 
the  fact  to  the  sergeant.  Mikhail  Doroft^ich  was  furious. 
In  the  first  moment  of  his  anger  he  threatened  the  tailor, 
but  later,  being  a  man  of  means,  and  good  at  heart,  he 
dropped  the  whole  matter  and  did  not  ask  any  restitution 
of  the  value  of  the  overcoat.  However  much  bustling 
Velenchuk  fretted  and  wept,  as  he  was  telling  about  his 
misfortune,  the  thief  did  not  show  up.  Though  there 
were  strong  suspicious  against  a  desperate  debauchee  of  a 
soldier,  Chernov  by  name,  who  was  sleeping  in  the  same 
tent  with  him,  there  were  no  positive  proofs.  The 
sagacious  commander,  Mikhail  Dorofeich,  being  a  man  of 
means  and  in  some  land  of  partnership  with  the  superin- 
tendent of  arms  and  the  steward,  the  aristocrats  of  the 
battery,  very  soon  completely  forgot  the  loss  of  that  par- 
ticular overcoat ;  Velenchuk,  on  the  contrary,  could  not 
forget  his  misfortune.  The  soldiers  said  that  they  were 
afraid  all  the  time  that  he  would  lay  hands  on  himself  or 
run  a.way  into  the  mountains,  for  this  unfortunate  acci- 
dent had  affected  him  powerfully.  He  did  not  eat,  nor 
drink ;  he  could  not  work,  and  wept  all  the  time.  Three 
days  later  he  appeared  before  Mikhail  Dorofeich,  and,  all 
pale,  drew  with  trembling  hands  a  gold  coin  out  of  his 
rolled  up  sleeve,  and  handed  it  to  him. 

"  Upon  my  word,  this  is  all  I  have,  Mikhail  Dorof(5ich, 
and  I  have  borrowed  it  from  Zhdanov,"  he  said,  sobbing 
again.     "  The  two  roubles  that  axe  wanting  I  will  give 


THE  CUTTING  OF  THE  FOREST       485 

you,  upon  my  word,  as  soon  as  I  have  earned  them.  He  " 
(Velenchdk  liimself  did  not  know  who  that  "  he  "  was) 
"  has  made  me  out  a  thief  in  your  eyes.  His  vile,  con- 
temptible soul  has  taken  the  last  thing  away  from  his 
brother  soldier  ;  here  I  have  been  serving  fifteen  years, 
and  —  "  To  Mikhail  Dorofeich's  honour,  it  must  be  said 
that  he  did  not  take  from  tjm  the  iacldng  two  roubles, 
though  Velenchuk  offered  them  to  him  two  months  later. 


Besides  Velenchuk,  five  other  soldiers  of  my  platoon 
were  warming  themselves  at  the  fire. 

In  the  best  place,  protected  from  the  wind,  on  a  cask, 
sat  the  gun-sergeant  of  the  platoon,  Maksimov,  smoking  a 
pipe.  In  the  pose,  the  look,  and  all  the  motions  of 
this  man  could  be  observed  the  habit  of  commanding  and 
the  consciousness  of  his  personal  dignity,  even  inde- 
pendently of  the  cask,  on  which  he  was  sitting,  and 
which,  at  a  halt,  formed  the  emblem  of  authority,  and  of 
the  nankeen-covered  fur  half-coat. 

When  I  came  up,  he  turned  his  head  toward  me ;  but 
his  eyes  remained  fixed  upon  the  fire,  and  only  much 
later  did  they  follow  the  direction  of  his  head,  and  rest 
upon  me.  Maksimov  was  a  freeman ;  he  was  possessed  of 
some  means,  had  taken  instruction  in  the  school  of  the 
brigade,  and  had  picked  up  some  information.  He  was 
dreadfully  rich  and  dreadfully  learned,  as  the  soldiers  ex- 
pressed themselves. 

I  remember  how  once,  at  gun-practice  with  the  quad- 
rant, he  explained  to  the  soldiers  who  were  crowding 
around  him  that  the  level  was  "  nothing  else  than  that  it 
originates  because  the  atmospheric  quicksilver  has  its 
motion."  In  reality,  Maksimov  was  far  from  being 
stupid,  and  he  knew  his  work  very  well,  but  he  had  an 
unfortunate  peculiarity  of  speaking  at  times  purposely  in 
such  a  way  that  it  was  totally  impossible  to  understand 
him,  and  so  that,  as  I  am  convinced,  he  did  not  under- 
stand his  own  words.     He  was  especially  fond   of  the 

486 


THE  CUTTING  OF  THE  FOREST       487 

words  "  originates "  and  "  to  continue,"  and  when  he 
introduced  his  remarks  with  "  originates "  and  "  con- 
tinuing," I  knew  in  advance  that  I  should  not  understand 
a  word  of  what  followed.  The  soldiers,  on  the  contrary, 
so  far  as  I  was  able  to  observe,  liked  to  hear  his  "  origi- 
nates," and  suspected  that  a  deep  meaning  lay  behind  it, 
though,  like  myself,  they  did  not  comprehend  a  word. 
They  referred  this  lack  of  comprehension  to  their  own 
stupidity,  and  respected  F^dor  Maksimych  the  more  for 
it.     In  short,  Maksimych  was  a  sagacious  commander. 

The  second  soldier,  who  was  taking  off  the  boots  from 
his  red,  muscular  legs,  was  Antonov,  the  same  bombardier 
Antonov,  who  in  the  year  '37,  having  been  left  with  two 
others  at  a  gun,  without  protection,  had  kept  up  a  fire 
against  a  numerous  enemy,  and,  wiA.  two  bullets  in  his 
hip,  had  continued  to  attend  to  the  gan  and  load  it.  "  He 
would  have  been  a  gun-sergeant  long  ago,  if  it  were  not 
for  his  character,"  the  soldiers  would  say  of  him.  In- 
deed, his  was  a  strange  character :  in  his  sober  mood 
there  was  not  a  quieter,  prompter,  and  more  peaceful 
soldier ;  but  when  he  became  intoxicated,  he  was  an 
entirely  different  man :  he  did  not  respect  the  au- 
thorities, brawled,  fought,  and  was  an  altogether  use- 
less soldier.  Not  more  than  a  week  before  he  had 
gone  on  a  spree  during  Butter-week,  and,  in  spite  of  all 
threats,  persuasions,  and  calls  to  duty,  he  continued  his 
drunken  bouts  and  brawls  until  the  first  Monday  in  Lent. 
But  during  the  whole  fast,  in  spite  of  the  order  for  all 
men  in  the  division  to  eat  meat,  he  lived  on  nothing  but 
hardtack,  and  in  the  first  week  he  did  not  even  take  the 
prescribed  dram  of  brandy.  However,  it  was  only  neces- 
sary to  .see  this  undersized  figure,  built  as  though  of  iron, 
with  his  short,  crooked  legs  and  shining,  whiskered  face, 
take  into  his  muscular  hands  the  balalayka,  while  under 
the  influence  of  liquor,  and,  carelessly  casting  his  glances 
to  both  sides,  strum  some  "  lady's  "  song,  or,  to  see  him, 


488  THE    CUTTING    OF    THE    FOREST 

his  overcoat,  with  the  decorations  dangUng  from  it, 
thrown  over  shoulder,  and  his  hands  thrust  into  the 
pockets  of  his  blue  nankeen  trousers,  stroll  down  the 
street,  —  it  was  only  necessary  to  see  the  expression  of 
military  pride  and  contempt  of  everything  un-military, 
which  was  displayed  in  his  face  at  such  a  time,  in 
order  to  understand  how  utterly  impossible  it  was  for 
him  to  keep  from  fighting  at  such  a  moment  an  imperti- 
nent or  even  innocent  orderly,  who  got  in  his  way,  or  a 
Cossack,  a  foot-soldier,  or  settler,  in  general  one  who  did 
not  belong  to  the  artillery.  He  fought  and  was  turbu- 
lent not  so  much  for  his  own  amusement,  as  for  the  sake 
of  supporting  the  spirit  of  the  whole  soldierhood,  of  which 
he  felt  himself  to  be  a  representative. 

The  third  soldier,  with  an  earring  in  one  ear,  bristly 
moustache,  a  sharp,  birdlike  face,  and  a  porcelain  pipe 
between  his  teeth,  who  was  squatting  near  the  fire,  was 
the  artillery-rider  Chikin.  The  dear  man  Chikin,  as  the 
soldiers  called  him,  was  a  joker.  Wliether  in  bitter  cold, 
or  up  to  his  knees  in  mud,  for  two  days  without  food,  in 
an  expedition,  on  parade,  at  instruction,  the  dear  man 
always  and  everywhere  made  faces,  pirouetted  with  his 
feet,  and  did  such  funny  things  that  the  whole  platoon 
roared  with  laughter.  At  a  halt  or  in  camp  there  was 
ahvays  around  Chikin  a  circle  of  young  soldiers,  with 
whom  he  played  cards ;  or  he  told  them  stories  about 
a  cunning  soldier  and  an  English  milord,  or  imitated  a 
Tartar  or  a  German,  or  simply  made  his  own  remarks, 
which  caused  them  nearly  to  die  with  laughter.  It  is 
true,  his  reputation  as  a  joker  was  so  w^ell  estalilished  in 
the  battery  that  it  was  enough  for  him  to  open  his  mouth 
and  wink,  in  order  to  provoke  a  general  roar  of  laughter ; 
but  there  was  really  something  truly  comical  and  unex- 
pected in  all  he  said  and  did.  In  everything  he  saw 
something  especial,  something  that  would  not  have  oc- 
curred to  anybody  else,  and  what  is  more  important,  this 


« 


THE  CUTTING  OF  THE  FOKEST       489 

ability  to  see  something  funny  did  not  fail  him  under  any 
trial. 

The  fourth  soldier  was  a  homely  young  lad,  a  recruit 
of  the  last  year's  draft,  who  was  now  for  the  first  time 
taking  part  in  an  expedition.  He  was  standing  in  the 
smoke,  and  so  close  to  the  fire  that  it  looked  as  though 
his  threadbare  fur  coat  would  soon  ignite ;  but,  notwith- 
standing this,  it  was  evident,  from  the  way  he  spread 
the  skirts  of  his  coat,  from  his  self-satisfied  pose  with  his 
arching  calves,  that  he  was  experiencing  great  pleasure. 

And,  finally,  the  fifth  soldier,  seated  a  little  distance 
from  the  fire,  and  whittling  a  stick,  was  Uncle  Zhdanov. 
Zhdanov  had  seen  more  service  than  any  other  soldier  in 
the  battery ;  he  had  known  them  all  as  recruits,  and  they 
called  him  uncle,  from  force  of  habit.  It  was  reported 
that  he  never  drank,  nor  smoked,  nor  played  cards  (not 
even  noski),  nor  ever  swore.  All  his  time  which  was  free 
from  military  service  he  spent  in  plying  the  shoemaker's 
trade ;  on  hohdays  he  went  to  church,  whenever  it  was 
possible,  or  placed  a  kopek  taper  before  the  image,  and 
opened  the  psalter,  the  only  book  which  he  could  read. 
He  associated  little  with  the  soldiers :  he  was  coldly  re- 
spectful to  those  who  were  higher  in  rank  but  younger 
in  years ;  his  equals  he  had  little  chance  to  meet,  since  he 
did  not  drink ;  but  he  was  especially  fond  of  recruits  and 
young  soldiers,  —  he  always  protected  them,  read  the 
instructions  to  them,  and  frequently  aided  them.  Every- 
body in  the  battery  considered  him  a  capitalist  because 
he  was  possessed  of  twenty-five  rouUes  with  which  he 
was  prepared  to  assist  those  who  really  needed  assistance. 
That  same  Maksimov,  who  was  now  gun-sergeant,  told  me 
that  when  he  had  arrived  ten  years  ago  as  a  recruit,  and  the 
older  soldiers,  who  were  given  to  drinking,  drank  up  with 
him  all  the  money  he  had,  Zhdanov,  noticing  his  unfortu- 
nate plight,  called  him  up,  upbraided  him  for  his  conduct, 
even  gave  him  some  blows,  read  him  the  instruction  about 


490       THE  CUTTING  OF  THE  FOKEST 

the  behaviour  of  a  soldier,  and  sent  him  away,  giving  him 
a  shirt,  for  Maksimov  had  got  rid  of  his,  and  half  a 
rouble  in  money. 

"  He  has  made  a  man  of  me,"  Maksimov  would  say  of 
him,  with  respect  and  gratitude.  He  had  also  helped 
Velenchiik,  whom  he  had  protected  ever  since  he  arrived 
as  a  recruit,  at  the  time  of  the  unfortunate  loss  of  the 
overcoat,  and  he  had  aided  many,  many  more  during  his 
tweuty-five  years  of  service. 

It  was  impossible  to  expect  in  the  service  a  man  who 
knew  his  business  better,  or  a  soldier  who  was  braver  and 
more  precise ;  but  he  was  too  meek  and  retiring  to  be  pro- 
moted to  the  rank  of  gun-sergeant,  though  he  had  been 
bombardier  fifteen  years.  Zhdanov's  one  pleasure,  and 
even  passion,  was  songs ;  he  was  especially  fond  of  some 
of  them,  and  he  always  gathered  a  circle  of  singers  from 
among  the  young  soldiers,  and,  though  he  could  not  sing 
himself,  stood  behind  them,  and,  putting  his  hands  into 
the  pockets  of  his  fur  coat,  and  closing  his  eyes,  expressed 
his  satisfaction  by  the  movement  of  his  head  and  cheeks. 
I  do  not  know  why,  but  for  some  reason  or  other  I  dis- 
covered much  expression  in  this  even  movement  of  the 
cheeks  under  his  ears,  which  I  had  observed  in  nobody 
else  but  him.  His  suow-wliite  head,  his  moustache  dyed 
black,  and  his  sunburnt,  wrinkled  face  gave  him,  at  first 
sight,  a  stern  and  austere  expression ;  but,  upon  looking 
more  closely  into  his  large,  round  eyes,  especially  when 
they  were  smiling  (he  never  smiled  with  his  lips),  you 
were  impressed  by  something  extraordinarily  meek  and 
almost  childlike. 


IV. 

"  Ah,  I  have  forgotten  my  pipe.  That's  bad,  brothers," 
repeated  Velenchuk. 

"  You  ought  to  smoke  cigars,  dear  man ! "  remarked 
Chikin,  screwing  up  his  mouth  and  winking.  "  I  always 
smoke  cigars  at  home ;  they  are  sweeter," 

Of  course,  everybody  rolled  in  laughter. 

"  So  you  forgot  your  pipe,"  interrupted  Maksimov,  not 
paying  any  attention  to  the  general  merriment,  and,  with 
the  air  of  a  superior,  proudly  knocking  out  the  ashes  by 
striking  the  pipe  against  the  palm  of  his  left  hand. 
"  What  have  you  been  doing  there  ?     Eh,  Velenchuk  ? " 

Velenchuk  turned  half-around  to  him,  put  his  hand  to 
his  cap,  and  then  dropped  it. 

"You  evidently  did  not  get  enough  sleep  yesterday, 
and  so  you  are  now  falling  asleep  standing.  You  won't 
get  any  reward  for  such  benaviour." 

"  May  I  be  torn  up  on  the  spot,  F^dor  Maksimych,  if 
I  have  had  a  drop  in  my  mouth ;  I  do  not  know  myself 
what  is  the  matter  with  me,"  replied  Velenchuk.  "  Wliat 
occasion  did  I  have  to  get  drunk  ? "  he  muttered. 

"  That's  it.  One  has  to  be  responsible  for  you  fellows 
before  the  authorities,  and  you  keep  it  up  all  the  time,  — 
it  is  disgusting,"  concluded  eloquent  Maksimov,  but  in  a 
calmer  tone. 

"  It  is  really  wonderful,  brothers,"  continued  Velenchuk, 
after  a  moment's  silence,  scratching  the  back  of  his  head, 
and  not  addressing  any  one  in  particular,  "  Eeally,  it  is 
wonderful,  brothers !     Here  I  have  been  sixteen  years  in 

491 


492       THE  CUTTING  OF  THE  FOREST 

the  service,  and  such  a  thing  has  never  happened  to  me 
before.  When  we  were  ordered  to  get  ready  for  the 
march,  I  got  up  as  usual,  —  there  was  nothing  the  matter  ; 
but  suddenly  it  caught  me  in  the  park  —  it  caught  me 
and  threw  me  down  on  the  ground,  and  that  was  all  — 
And  I  myself  do  not  know  how  I  fell  asleep,  brothers  ! 
It  must  be  the  sleeping  disease,"  he  concluded. 

"  Yes,  I  had  a  hard  time  waking  you,"  said  Antonov, 
pulling  on  his  boot.  "  I  kept  pushing  and  pushing  you, 
as  though  you  were  a  log  !  " 

"  I  say,"  remarked  Veleuchiik,  "  just  as  though  I  were 
drunk  —  " 

"  There  was  a  woman  at  home,"  began  Chikin,  "  who 
had  not  left  the  oven  bed  for  at  least  two  years.  They 
began  to  wake  her  once,  thinking  that  she  was  asleep, 
but  they  found  she  was  dead,  —  though  her  death  resem- 
bled sleep.     Yes,  my  dear  man  ! " 

"  Just  tell  us,  Chikin,  how  you  put  on  style  when  you 
had  your  leave  of  absence,"  said  Maksimov,  smiling  and 
looking  at  me,  as  though  to  say,  "  Would  you  not  like 
to  hear  the  story  of  a  foolish  man  ? " 

"  What  style,  Maksimych  ? "  said  Chikin,  casting  a 
cursory  side  glance  at  me.  "  I  just  told  them  all  about 
the  Caucasus." 

"  Of  course,  of  course  !  Don't  be  so  shy  —  tell  us  how 
you  led  them  on." 

"  It  is  very  simple :  they  asked  me  how  we  were 
living,"  Chikin  began,  speaking  hurriedly,  having  the 
appearance  of  a  man  who  has  told  the  same  story  several 
times.  "  I  said  :  *  We  live  well,  dear  man  :  we  get  our 
provisions  in  full,  —  in  the  morning  and  evening  of 
chocolate  a  cup  to  each  soldier  is  brought  up ;  and  for 
dinner  we  get  soup,  not  of  oats,  but  of  noble  barley 
groats,  and  instead  of  brandy  we  get  a  cup  of  Modeira, 
Modeira  Divirioo  which,  without  the  bottle,  is  at  forty- 
twol'" 


THE  CUTTING  OF  THE  FOREST       493 

"  Great  Modeira  ! "  shouted  Velenchuk,  louder  than  the 
rest,  aud  bursting  out  laughing.  "That's  what  I  call 
Modeira ! " 

"  Well,  and  did  you  tell  them  about  the  Esiatics  ? " 
Maksimov  continued  his  inquiry,  when  the  general 
laughter  had  subsided. 

Chikin  bent  down  toward  the  fire,  got  a  coal  out  with 
a  stick,  put  it  in  his  pipe,  and  for  a  long  while  puffed  in 
silence  his  tobacco  roots,  as  though  unconscious  of  the 
silent  curiosity  of  his  hearers.  When  he  finally  had 
puffed  up  sufficient  smoke,  he  threw  away  the  coal, 
poised  his  cap  farther  back  on  his  head,  and,  shrugging 
his  shoulder  and  lightly  smiling,  he  continued.  " '  What 
kind  of  a  man  is  your  small  Circassian  down  there  ? ' 
says  one.  '  Or  is  it  the  Turk  you  are  fighting  in  the 
Caucasus?'  Says  I:  'Dear  man,  there  is  not  one  kind 
of  Circassians  down  there,  but  many  different  Circassians 
there  are.  There  are  some  mountaineers  who  live  in 
stone  mountains,  and  who  eat  stone  instead  of  bread. 
They  are  big,'  says  I,  '  a  big  log  in  size ;  they  have  one 
eye  in  the  middle  of  the  forehead,'  and  they  wear  red  caps 
that  glow  like  yours,  dear  man  ! "  he  added,  addressing 
a  young  recruit,  who,  in  fact,  wore  a  funny  little  cap 
with  a  red  crown. 

At  this  unexpected  turn,  the  recruit  suddenly  sat 
down  on  the  ground,  slapped  his  knees,  and  burst  out 
laughing  and  coughing  so  hard  that  he  could  hardly 
pronounce  with  a  choking  voice,  "Those  are  fine  moun- 
taineers ! " 

" '  Then  there  are  the  Boobies,' "  continued  Chikin,  with 
a  jerk  of  his  head  drawing  his  cap  back  on  his  forehead, 
" '  these  are  twins,  wee  little  twins,  about  tliis  size.  They 
always  run  in  pairs,  holding  each  other's  hands,'  says  I, 
'  aud  they  run  so  fast  that  you  can't  catch  them  on  horse- 
back,' '  Are  those  Boobies,'  says  one,  '  born  with  clasped 
hands,  my  dear  fellow  ? ' "     Chikin  spoke  in  a  guttural 


494       THE  CUTTING  OF  THE  FOEEST 

bass,  as  though  imitating  a  peasant.  " '  Yes/  says  I, 
'  dear  man,  he  is  such  by  nature.  If  you  tear  their  hands 
apart,  blood  will  ooze  out,  just  as  from  a  Chinaman  ;  if 
you  take  off  their  caps,  blood  will  flow.'  '  Now  tell  me, 
good  fellow,  how  do  they  carry  on  war  ? '  says  he.  '  Like 
this,'  says  I, '  if  they  catch  you,  they  sht  open  your  belly, 
and  begin  to  wind  your  guts  about  your  arms.  They 
wind  them,  but  you  laugh  and  laugh,  until  you  give  up 
the  ghost  — '  " 

"  Well,  did  they  believe  you,  Chikin  ? "  said  Maksimov, 
with  a  slight  smile,  while  the  others  were  rolling  in 
laughter. 

"  They  are  such  strange  people,  Fedor  Maksimych. 
They  believe  everything,  upon  my  word,  they  do.  But 
when  I  began  to  tell  them  about  Mount  Kazbek,  telling 
them  that  the  snow  did  not  melt  all  summer  there,  they 
ridiculed  me.  '  Don't  tell  such  fibs,  good  fellow,'  they 
said.  '  Who  has  ever  heard  such  a  thing :  a  big  moun- 
tain, and  the  snow  not  melting  on  it !  Why,  even  with 
us  the  snow  melts  on  the  mounds  long  before  it  has 
melted  in  the  hollows.'  So,  go  and  explain  matters  to 
them,"  concluded  Chikin,  winking. 


I 


V. 

The  bright  disk  of  the  sun,  shiuing  through  the  milk- 
white  mist,  had  risen  quite  high;  the  grayish-violet 
horizon  was  widening  all  the  time,  and  though  it  was 
farther  away,  it  was  also  sharply  closed  in  by  the  decep- 
tive white  mist  wall. 

In  front  of  us,  beyond  the  forest  which  had  been  cut 
down,  there  was  opened  up  a  fairly  large  clearing.  Over 
the  clearing  there  spread  on  all  sides  the  smoke  from  the 
fires,  now  black,  now  milk-white,  now  violet,  and  the  white 
layers  of  the  mist  were  forming  themselves  into  fantastic 
shapes.  Far  in  (he  distance,  occasionally  appeared  groups 
of  Tartar  horsemen,  and  were  heard  the  infrequent  re- 
ports of  our  carbines,  and  their  guns  and  cannon. 

"  This  was  not  yet  an  engagement,  but  mere  child's 
play,"  as  the  good  Captain  Khlopov  used  to  say. 

The  commander  of  the  ninth  company  of  sharpshooters, 
who  were  to  flank  us,  walked  up  to  the  guns,  pointed  to 
three  Tartar  horsemen,  who  were  at  that  time  riding 
near  the  forest,  at  a  distance  of  more  than  six  hundred 
fathoms  from  us ;  he  asked  me,  with  that  eagerness  to 
see  an  artillery  fire  which  is  characteristic  of  all  infantry 
officers  in  general,  to  give  them  a  shot  or  a  shell. 

"  Do  you  see,"  he  said,  with  a  kindly  and  convincing 

smile   extending   his   hand   from    behind    my    shoulder, 

"  there  where  the  two  high  trees  are  ?     One  of  them,  in 

front,  is  on  a  white  horse,  and  dressed  in  a  white  mantle, 

and  there,  behind  him,  are  two  more.    Do  you  see  them  ? 

Couldn't  you  just  —  " 

495 


496  THE    CUTTING    OF    THE    FOREST 

"  And  there  are  three  others,  riding  near  the  forest," 
added  Antonov,  who  had  remarkably  sharp  eyes,  ap- 
proaching us,  aud  concealing  behind  his  back  the  pipe 
which  he  had  been  smoking.  "  The  one  in  front  has 
just  taken  out  the  gun  from  its  case.  You  can  see  him 
plainly,  your  Honour  !  " 

"  I  say,  he  has  fired  it  off,  brothers !  There  is  the 
white  puff  of  the  smoke,"  said  Velenchuk,  in  a  group 
of  soldiers  who  were  standing  a  short  distance  behind 
us. 

"  He  must  have  aimed  at  our  cordon,  the  rascal ! " 
remarked  another. 

"  See  what  a  lot  of  them  the  forest  is  pouring  out. 
I  suppose  they  are  trying  to  find  a  place  to  station  their 
cannon,"  added  a  tliird.  "  If  we  could  just  burst  a  shell 
in  the  midst  of  them,  —  that  would  make  them  spit  —  " 

"  What  is  your  opinion  ?  will  it  reach  so  far,  dear 
man  ? "  asked  Chikin. 

"  Five  hundred  or  five  hundred  and  twenty  fathoms, 
not  more,"  Maksimov  said,  coolly,  as  though  speakiug  to 
himself,  though  it  was  evident  that  he  was  anxious  to  fire 
off  the  cannon,  as  the  rest  were.  "  If  we  were  to  give 
forty -five  lines  to  the  howitzer,  we  might  hit  it,  —  hit  it 
square  in  the  middle." 

"  Do  you  know,  if  you  were  to  aim  straight  at  this 
group,  you  would  certainly  hit  somebody.  See  how  they 
have  all  gathered  in  a  mass !  Now,  quickly,  give  the 
order  to  fire,"  the  commander  of  the  company  continued 
his  entreaties. 

"  Do  you  order  the  gun  to  be  aimed  ? "  Antonov  sud- 
denly asked,  in  a  jerky  bass  voice,  with  gloomy  malice  in 
his  eyes. 

I  must  confess  that  I  myself  was  anxious  for  it,  and  so 
I  ordered  that  the  second  cannon  be  brought  into  posi- 
tion. 

No  sooner  had  I  given  the  order  than  the  shell  was 


THE    CUTTING    OF    THE    FOREST  497 

powdered,  and  rammed  in,  and  Antonov,  clinging  to  the 
gun-cheek,  and  placing  his  two  fat  fingers  on  the  carriage- 
plate,  was  ordering  the  block-trail  to  the  right  and  left. 

"A  trifle  more  to  the  left  —  a  wee  bit  to  the  right — - 
now,  the  least  little  bit  more  —  now  it's  all  right,"  he 
said,  walking  away  from  the  gun  with  a  proud  face. 

The  infantry  officer,  I,  and  Maksimov,  one  after  an- 
other put  our  eyes  to  the  sight,  and  each  expressed  his 
particular  opinion. 

"  Upon  my  word,  it  will  carry  across,"  remarked  Velen- 
chiik,  clicking  with  his  tongue,  although  he  had  only 
been  looking  over  Autonov's  shoulder,  and  therefore  did 
not  have  the  least  reason  for  such  a  supposition.  "  Upon 
my  w^ord,  it  will  carry  across,  and  will  strike  that  tree, 
brothers ! " 

"  Second  •  "  I  commanded. 

The  crew  stepped  aside.  Antonov  ran  to  one  side,  in 
order  to  see  the  flight  of  the  projectile ;  the  fuse  flashed, 
and  the  brass  rang  out.  At  the  same  time  we  were  en- 
veloped in  powder-smoke,  and  through  the  deafening 
boom  of  the  report  was  heard  the  metallic,  whizzing 
sound  of  the  projectile,  flying  with  the  rapidity  of  light- 
ning, dying  away  in  the  distance  amid  a  universal 
silence.  A  little  behind  the  group  of  the  horsemen  ap- 
peared white  smoke,  the  Tartars  galloped  away  in  both 
directions,  and  we  heard  the  sound  of  the  explosion. 

"  That  was  fine  !  How  they  are  scampering !  See,  the 
devils  don't  like  it ! "  were  heard  the  approvals  and  jests 
in  the  ranks  of  the  artillery  and  infantry. 

"  If  we  liad  aimed  a  little  lower,  we  should  have  hit 
him  straight,"  remarked  Velenchuk.  "  I  told  you  it 
would  strike  the  tree,  and  so  it  did,  —  it  went  to  the 
right." 


VL 

Leaving  the  soldiers  to  discuss  the  flight  of  the  Tar- 
tars when  they  saw  the  shell,  and  why  they  were  riding 
there,  and  how  many  of  them  still  might  be  in  the  woods, 
I  wallced  away  with  the  commander  of  the  company  a 
few  steps  to  one  side,  and  seated  myself  under  a  tree, 
waiting  for  the  warmed  forcemeat  cutlets  which  he  had 
offered  me.  The  commander  of  the  company,  Bolkhov, 
was  one  of  those  officers  who,  in  the  regiment,  are  called 
"  bonjours."  He  had  means,  had  served  in  the  guards, 
and  spoke  French.  Yet,  notwithstanding  this,  his  com- 
rades liked  him.  He  was  quite  clever,  and  had  enough 
tact  to  wear  a  St.  Petersburg  coat,  to  eat  a  good  dinner, 
and  to  speak  French,  without  unduly  offending  the  society 
of  his  fellow  officers.  After  speaking  of  the  weather,  of 
military  engagements,  of  our  common  acquaintances  among 
the  officers,  and  convincing  ourselves,  by  our  questions 
and  answers,  and  by  our  view  of  things,  that  there  was 
a  satisfactory  understanding  between  us,  we  involuntarily 
passed  to  a  more  intimate  conversation.  Besides,  in  the 
Caucasus,  among  people  'of  the  same  circle  naturally  arises 
the  question,  though  not  always  expressed,  "  Why  are  you 
here  ? "  To  this  silent  question  my  companion,  so  it 
seemed  to  me,  was  trying  to  give  a  reply. 

"  When  will  this  frontier  work  end  ? "  he  said,  lazily. 
« It  is  dull ! " 

"  Not  to  me,"  said  I.     "  It  is  more  tiresome  on  the  staff." 

"  Oh,  on  the  staff  it  is  ten  thousand  times  worse,"  he 
said,  angrily.     "  No,  when  will  all  this  end  ? " 

"  What  is  it  you  want  to  end  ? " 

498 


THE    CUTTING    OF    THE    FOREST  499 

"  Everything,  altogether  !  —  Are  the  cutlets  ready, 
Nikolaev  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Why  did  you  go  to  the  Caucasus  to  serve,  if  the  Cau- 
casus is  so  displeasing  to  you  ? " 

"  Do  you  know  why  ?  "  he  replied,  with  absolute  frank- 
ness. "  By  tradition.  In  Paissia,  you  know,  there  exists 
an  exceedingly  strange  tradition  about  the  Caucasus,  as 
though  it  were  a  promised  land  for  all  kinds  of  unhappy 
people." 

"  Yes,  that  is  almost  true,"  I  said,  "  the  greater  part  of 
us  —  " 

"But  what  is  best  of  all,"  he  interrupted  me,  "is, 
that  all  of  us  who  come  to  the  Caucasus  make  dreadful 
mistakes  in  our  calculations.  Eeally,  I  can't  see  why,  on 
account  of  an  unfortunate  love-affair  or  disorder  in  money 
matters,  one  should  hasten  to  serve  in  the  Caucasus 
rather  than  in  Kazan  or  Kaluga.  In  Russia  they  im- 
agine the  Caucasus  as  something  majestic,  with  eternal 
virgin  snows,  torrents,  daggers,  cloaks,  Circassian  maidens, 
—  all  this  is  terrifying,  but,  really,  there  is  nothing  jolly 
in  it.  If  they  only  knew  that  you  never  are  in  the  vir- 
gin snows,  and  that  there  is  no  special  pleasure  in  being 
there,  and  that  the  Caucasus  is  divided  into  Governments, 
Stavropol,  Tifiis,  and  so  forth  —  " 

"  Yes,"  I  said,  laughing,  "  in  Eussia  we  take  an  entirely 
different  view  of  the  Caucasus  from  what  we  do  here. 
Have  you  not  experienced  this  ?  when  you  read  poetry  in 
a  language  that  you  do  not  know  very  well,  you  imagine 
it  to  be  much  better  than  it  really  is  —  " 

"  I  don't  know,  only  I  have  no  use  for  the  Caucasus," 
he  interrupted  me. 

"  No,  not  so  with  me.  I  like  the  Caucasus  even  now, 
but  differently  —  " 

"  Maybe  the  Caucasus  is  all  right,"  he  continued,  as 
though  provoked  a  little,  "  but  I  know  this  much :  I  am 
not  good  for  the  Caucasus." 


600  THE    CUTTING    OF    THE    FOEEST 

"  Why  not  ? "  I  asked,  in  order  to  say  something. 

"  Because,  in  the  first  place,  it  has  deceived  me.  All 
that  from  which  I  had  come  away  to  be  cured  in  the 
Caucasus,  as  the  tradition  has  it,  has  followed  me  up  here, 
—  but  with  tliis  difference.  Formerly  I  was  led  to  it  on 
a  large  staircase,  and  now  it  is  a  small,  dirty  staircase, 
at  each  step  of  which  I  find  millions  of  petty  annoyances, 
meanness,  insults  ;  in  the  second  place,  because  I  feel  that 
I  am  every  day  falling  morally  lower  and  lower,  and,  what 
is  most  important,  because  I  feel  unfit  for  this  kind  of 
service ;  I  am  unable  to  bear  danger  —  I  am  simply  not 
a  brave  man  —  " 

He  stopped  and  looked  earnestly  at  me. 

Althovigh  this  unasked-for  confession  surprised  me 
very  much,  I  did  not  contradict  him,  as  my  interlocutor 
had  evidently  expected  me  to  do,  but  awaited  from  liim 
the  refutation  of  his  own  words,  which  is  always  forth- 
coming under  such  circumstances. 

"  Do  you  know,  I  am  to-day  taking  part  in  an  action 
for  the  first  time  since  I  have  been  in  the  frontier  guard," 
he  continued,  "  and  you  will  hardly  believe  what  hap- 
pened to  me  yesterday.  "When  the  sergeant  brought  the 
order  that  my  company  was  to  be  in  the  column,  I  grew 
as  pale  as  a  sheet,  and  was  unable  to  speak  from  trepida- 
tion. And  if  you  only  knew  what  a  night  I  have  passed  ! 
If  it  is  true  that  people  grow  gray  from  fright,  I  ought  to 
be  entirely  white  to-day,  for  not  one  man  condemned 
to  death  has  suffered  so  much  in  one  night  as  I  have ; 
though  I  am  feeling  a  little  more  at  ease  now  than  I  did 
in  the  night,  it  still  goes  around  here,"  he  added,  moving 
his  clinched  hand  in  front  of  his  breast.  "  Now  this  is 
certainly  ridiculous,"  he  continued,  "  a  most  terrible  drama 
is  being  played  here,  and  I  myself  am  eating  cutlets  with 
onions,  and  persuading  myself  that  all  this  is  very  gay. 
Have  you  auy  wine,  Nikulaev  ? "  he  added,  with  a  yawn. 

"  There  he  is,  brothers ! "  was  heard  at  that  moment  the 


THE    CUTTING    OF   THE    FOEEST  501 

alarmed  voice  of  one  of  the  soldiers,  and  all  eyes  were 
directed  to  the  edge  of  the  far-off  forest. 

In  the  distance  rose  a  bluish  cloud  of  smoke,  borne 
upwards  by  the  wind,  and  constantly  growing  larger. 
When  I  understood  that  this  was  a  shot  which  the  enemy 
had  aimed  at  us,  everything  that  was  before  my  eyes, 
everything  suddenly  assumed  a  new  and  majestic  charac- 
ter. The  stacked  guns,  and  the  smoke  of  the  camp-fires, 
and  the  blue  sky,  and  the  green  gun-carriages,  and  the 
sunburnt,  whiskered  face  of  Nikolaev,  —  everything 
seemed  to  tell  me  that  the  cannon-ball  which  had  emerged 
from  the  smoke  and  which  at  that  moment  was  flying 
through  space  might  be  directed  straight  at  my  breast. 

"  Where  did  you  get  your  wine  ? "  I  asked  Bolkhov, 
lazily,  while  in  tbe  depth  of  my  soul  two  voices  were 
speaking  with  equal  distinctness ;  one  said,  "  Lord,  receive 
my  soul  in  peace,"  and  the  other,  "  I  hope  I  sball  not 
cower,  but  smile  as  the  ball  flies  past  me,"  and  at  the  same 
instant  something  dreadfully  disagreeable  whistled  over 
our  heads,  and  struck  the  ground  within  two  steps  of  us. 

"  Now,  if  I  were  a  Napoleon  or  a  Frederick,"  Bolkhov 
remarked  at  that  time,  turning  toward  me  with  extraordi- 
nary composure,  "  I  should  utter  some  witticism." 

"  But  you  have  told  one  just  now,"  I  replied,  with  diffi- 
culty concealing  the  alarm  caused  within  me  by  the 
danger  just  past. 

"  Even  if  I  have,  nobody  will  make  a  note  of  it." 

"  I  will." 

"  Yes,  if  you  make  a  note  of  it,  it  will  be  to  put  in  a 
critical  paper,  as  Mishchenkov  says,"  he  added,  smiling. 

"  Pshaw,  you  accursed  one ! "  said  Antouov,  who  was 
sitting  behind  us,  angrily  spitting  to  one  side,  "  just  missed 
my  legs." 

All  my  endeavours  to  appear  cool  and  all  our  cunning 
phrases  suddenly  seemed  intolerably  stupid  after  this 
simple-hearted  exclamation. 


VII. 

The  enemy  had  really  stationed  two  guns  where  the 
Tartars  had  been  riding,  and  every  twenty  or  thirty  min- 
utes they  sent  a  shot  at  our  wood-cutters.  My  platoon 
was  moved  out  into  the  clearing,  and  the  order  was  given 
to  return  the  fire.  At  the  edge  of  the  forest  appeared  a 
puff  of  smoke,  there  was  heard  a  discharge,  a  whistling,  — 
and  the  ball  fell  behind  or  in  front  of  us.  The  projectiles 
of  the  enemy  lodged  harmlessly,  and  we  had  no  losses. 

The  artillerists  conducted  themselves  well,  as  they 
always  did,  loaded  expeditiously,  carefully  aimed  at  the 
puffs  of  smoke,  and  quietly  joked  each  other.  The  flank- 
ing infantry  detachment  lay  near  us,  in  silent  inaction, 
waiting  for  their  turn.  The  wood-cutters  did  their  work : 
the  axes  sounded  through  the  woods  faster  and  more  fre- 
quently ;  only,  whenever  the  whistling  of  the  projectile 
was  heard,  everything  suddenly  grew  quiet,  and  amid  the 
dead  silence  could  be  heard  the  not  very  calm  voices, 
"  Get  out  of  the  way,  boys ! "  and  all  eyes  were  directed 
toward  the  ball,  ricocheting  over  the  fires  and  the  brush. 

The  fog  was  now  completely  lifted,  and,  assuming  the 
forms  of  clouds,  was  slowly  disappearing  in  the  dark  blue 
vault  of  the  sky ;  the  unshrouded  sun  shone  brightly  and 
cast  its  gleaming  rays  on  the  steel  of  the  bayonets,  the 
brass  of  the  ordnance,  the  thawing  earth,  and  the  spark- 
ling hoarfrost.  The  air  was  brisk  with  the  freshness  of 
the  morning  frost,  together  with  the  warmth  of  the  vernal 
sun  ;  thousands  of  different  shadows  and  hues  were  min- 
gled in  the  dry  leaves  of  the  forest,  and  on  the  hard  shin- 

502 


THE  CUTTING  OF  THE  FOREST       503 

ing  road  were  distinctly  visible  the  traces  of  the  wheel 
tires  and  horse-shoe  sponges. 

Between  the  troops  the  motion  grew  more  animated  and 
more  noticeable.  On  all  sides  flashed  more  and  more  fre- 
quently the  bluish  puffs  of  the  discharges.  The  dragoons, 
with  the  pennons  fluttering  from  their  lances,  rode  out  in 
front ;  in  the  companies  of  the  infantry,  songs  were 
started,  aad  the  wagons  with  the  wood  were  being  drawn 
up  in  the  rear.  The  general  rode  up  to  our  platoon,  and 
ordered  us  to  get  ready  for  the  retreat.  The  enemy  took 
up  a  position  in  the  bushes,  opposite  our  left  flank,  and 
began  to  harass  us  with  musketry-fire.  On  the  left  side  a 
bullet  whizzed  by  from  the  forest  and  struck  a  gun-car- 
riage, then  a  second,  a  third —  The  flanking  infantry, 
which  was  lying  near  us,  rose  noisily,  picked  up  their 
guns,  and  formed  a  cordon.  The  fusilade  grew  fiercer, 
and  the  bullets  kept  flying  oftener  and  oftener.  The 
retreat  began,  and,  consequently,  the  real  engagement,  as 
is  always  the  case  in  the  Caucasus. 

It  was  quite  evident  that  the  artillerists  did  not  like 
the  bullets,  as  awhile  ago  the  foot-soldiers  had  enjoyed 
the  cannon-balls.  Antonov  frowned.  Chikin  imitated  the 
sound  of  the  bullets  and  made  fun  of  them  ;  but  it  was 
apparent  that  he  did  not  like  them.  Of  one  he  said, 
"  What  a  hurry  it  is  in ! "  another  he  called  a  "  little 
bee ; "  a  third  one,  which  flew  over  us  slowly,  and  whining 
pitifully,  he  called  an  "  orphan,"  wliich  provoked  a  uni- 
versal roar. 

The  recruit,  who  was  not  used  to  this,  bent  his  head 
aside  and  craned  his  neck  every  time  a  bullet  passed  by, 
which,  too,  made  the  soldiers  laugh.  "  Is  it  an  acquaint- 
ance of  yours,  that  you  are  bowing  to  it  ? "  they  said  to 
him.  Velenchuk,  who  otherwise  was  -exceedingly  indif- 
ferent to  danger,  now  was  in  an  agitated  mood  :  he  was 
obviously  angry  because  we  did  not  fire  any  canister-shot 
in  the  direction  from  which  the  bullets  proceeded.     He 


504       THE  CUTTING  OF  THE  FOREST 

repeated  several  times,  in  a  discontented  voice  :  "  Why  do 
we  let  Mm  shoot  at  us  for  nothing  ?  If  we  trained  our 
gun  upon  him,  and  treated  him  to  a  canister-shot,  he 
probably  would  stop." 

It  was  indeed  time  to  do  so.  I  ordered  the  last  shell 
let  out,  and  a  canister-shot  loaded. 

"  Canister-shot ! "  cried  Autouov,  lustily,  before  the 
smoke  had  dispersed,  and  walking  up  with  the.  sponge  to 
the  gun  the  moment  the  shell  had  been  discharged. 

Just  then  I  suddenly  heard  a  short  distance  behind  me 
the  ping  of  a  whizzing  bullet  striking  against  something. 
My  heart  was  compressed.  "  It  seems  to  me  it  has  struck 
somebody,"  1  thought,  but  at  the  same  time  I  was  afraid 
to  turn  around,  under  the  influence  of  a  heavy  presenti- 
ment. Indeed,  immediately  following  upon  this  sound 
was  heard  the  heavy  fall  of  a  body,  and  "  Oh,  oh,  oh !"  the 
piercing  cry  of  a  wounded  man.  "  It  has  struck  me, 
brothers ! "  uttered  with  difficulty  a  voice  which  I  recog- 
nized. It  was  Yelencluik.  He  lay  fiat  on  his  back 
between  the  limber  and  the  gun.  The  cartridge-box 
which  he  carried  was  thrown  to  one  side.  His  forehead 
was  blood-stained,  and  down  his  right  eye  and  nose  ran 
the  thick  red  blood.  The  wound  was  in  the  abdomen, 
but  he  had  hurt  his  forehead  in  his  fall. 

All  this  I  found  out  much  later ;  in  the  first  moment 
I  saw  only  an  indistinct  mass,  and  a  terrible  lot  of  blood, 
as  I  thought. 

Not  one  of  the  soldiers,  who  were  loading  the  gun, 
said  a  word,  only  the  recruit  mumbled  something  like, 
"  I  say,  all  bloody,"  and  Antonov,  scowling,  angrily  cleared 
his  throat ;  but  it  was  manifest  that  the  thought  of  death 
had  passed  through  the  mind  of  each.  Everybody  went 
to  work  with  a  vim.  The  gun  was  loaded  in  a  twinkle, 
and  the  cannoneer,  in  bringing  the  shot,  made  a  couple  of 
steps  around  the  place  on  which  the  wounded  man  lay 
groaning. 


VIII. 

EvEEY  one  who  has  been  in  an  action  has  no  doubt 
experienced  that  strange  and  strong,  though  not  at  all 
logical,  feeling  of  disgust  with  the  place  where  one  has 
been  killed  or  wounded.  In  the  first  moment  my  sol- 
diers were  obviously  experiencing  this  feeling,  when  it 
was  necessary  to  lift  up  Yelenchiik  and  carry  him  to  the 
vehicle  which  had  just  come  up.  Zhdanov  angrily  went 
up  to  the  wounded  man,  in  spite  of  his  increasing  shrieks 
took  him  under  his  arms,  and  raised  him.  "  Don't  stand 
around !  Take  hold  of  him ! "  he  shouted,  and  imme- 
diately some  ten  men,  even  superfluous  helpers,  surrounded 
him.  But  the  moment  he  was  moved  away,  Velenchiik 
began  to  cry  terribly  and  to  struggle. 

"  Don't  yell  like  a  rabbit !  "  said  Antonov,  rudely,  hold- 
ing his  leg,  "  or  we  will  throw  you  down." 

The  wounded  man  really  quieted  down,  and  only  occa- 
sionally muttered,  "  Oh,  I  shall  die  !     Oh,  brothers  ! " 

When  he  was  laid  on  the  vehicle  he  stopped  groaning, 
and  I  heard  him  speaking  with  his  comrades  in  a  soft, 
but  audible  voice,  —  he  evidently  was  bidding  them  good- 
bye. 

During  an  action,  nobody  likes  to  look  at  a  wounded 
man,  and  I,  instinctively  hastening  to  get  away  from  this 
spectacle,  ordered  that  he  be  taken  at  once  to  the  ambu- 
lance, and  walked  over  to  the  guns ;  but  a  few  minutes 
later  I  was  told  that  Velenchuk  was  calling  me,  and  I 
went  up  to  the  vehicle. 

In  the  bottom  of  it,  clinging  with  both  hands  to  the 

505 


506  THE    CUTTING    OF    THE    FOREST 

.edges,  lay  the  wounded  man.  His  healthy,  broad  face 
had  completely  changed  in  a  few  seconds :  he  looked 
rather  haggard  and  had  aged  by  several  years ;  his  lips 
were  thin,  pale,  and  compressed  under  an  evident  strain ; 
the  restless,  dull  expression  of  his  glance  had  given  way 
to  a  clear,  quiet  gleam,  and  on  his  blood-stained  forehead 
and  nose  already  lay  the  imprint  of  death. 

Notwithstanding  the  fact  that  the  least  motion  caused 
him  untold  sufferings,  he  asked  them  to  remove  the 
money-pouch  which  was  tied  around  his  left  leg,  below 
the  knee. 

A  terrible  oppressive  sensation  overcame  me  at  the  sight 
of  his  white  healthy  leg,  when  the  boot  was  taken  off, 
and  the  pouch  was  ungirded. 

"  Here  are  three  roubles  and  a  half,"  he  said  to  me,  as  I 
took  the  purse  into  my  hand ;  "  you  keep  them  for  me." 

The  vehicle  started,  but  he  stopped  it. 

"  I  was  making  an  overcoat  for  Lieutenant  Sulimovski. 
He  has  given  me  two  roubles.  For  one  rouble  and  a  half 
I  bought  buttons ;  the  remaining  half-rouble  is  in  the 
bag  with  the  buttons.     Give  it  to  him  ! " 

"  Very  well,  very  well,"  I  said,  "  only  get  well,  my 
friend ! " 

He  made  no  reply ;  the  vehicle  started,  and  he  again 
began  to  sob  and  groan  in  the  most  heartrending  manner. 
It  looked  as  tliough,  having  arranged  all  his  worldly 
affairs,  he  no  longer  saw  cause  for  restraining  liimself,  and 
considered  it  permissible  to  alleviate  his  suffering. 


IX. 

"  Where  are  you  going  ?  Come  back !  Where  are 
you  going  ? "  I  cried  to  the  recruit,  who,  having  put  his 
reserve  hnstock  under  his  arm,  and  with  a  stick  in  his 
hand,  was  coolly  following  the  vehicle  in  which  the 
wounded  soldier  was  lying. 

But  the  recruit  only  looked  lazily  at  me,  muttered 
something,  and  went  ahead,  so  that  I  had  to  send  a 
soldier  after  him.  He  doffed  his  red  cap,  and,  smiling 
stupidly,  gazed  at  me. 

"  Where  are  you  going  ? "  I  asked. 

"  To  the  camp." 

"  What  for  ?  " 

"  Why,  Velenchuk  is  wounded,"  he  said,  smiling  again. 

"  What  have  you  to  do  with  that  ?  You  must  remain 
here." 

He  looked  at  me  in  surprise,  then  coolly  wheeled  around, 
put  on  his  cap,  and  went  back  to  his  place. 

The  engagement  was  favourable  to  us :  it  was  reported 
that  the  Cossacks  had  made  a  fine  attack  and  had  taken 
three  Tartar  bodies  ;  the  infantry  was  provided  with  wood, 
and  lost  only  six  wounded,  and  in  the  artillery  only  Ve- 
lenchiik  and  two  horses  were  put  out  of  action.  To  atone 
for  these  losses,  they  cut  out  about  three  versts  of  tim- 
ber, and  so  cleared  the  place  that  it  was  impossible  to 
recognize  it :  in  place  of  the  dense  forest  now  was  opened 
up  an  immense  clearing,  covered  with  smoking  fires  and 
with  the  cavalry  and  infantry  moving  toward  the  camp. 

507 


608       THE  CUTTING  OF  THE  FOREST 

Although  the  eueiny  continued  to  harass  us  with  artillery 
and  musketry  fire,  until  we  reached  the  brook  by  the 
cemetery,  where  we  had  forded  in  the  morning,  the  retreat 
was  successfully  accomplished.  I  was  already  beginning 
to  dream  of  cabbage  soup  and  a  leg  of  mutton  with  buck- 
wheat groats,  which  were  awaiting  me  in  the  camp,  when 
the  information  was  received  that  the  general  had  ordered 
the  construction  of  redoubts,  and  that  the  third  battal- 
ion  of   the  K regiment  and  a  detachment  of  four 

batteries  were  to  remain  here  until  to-morrow.  The 
Avagons  with  the  wood  and  the  wounded,  the  Cossacks, 
the  artillery,  the  infantry  with  their  guns,  and  wood  on 
their  shoulders,  —  all  passed  by  us,  with  noise  and  songs. 
All  faces  expressed  animation  and  pleasure,  induced  by 
the  past  danger  and  the  hope  for  a  rest.  But  the  third 
battahon  and  we  were  to  postpone  these  pleasant  sensa- 
tions for  the  morrow. 


X. 

While  we,  of  the  artillery,  were  still  busy  about  the 
ordnance,  and  placing  the  limbers  and  caissons,  and  pick- 
eting the  horses,  the  infantry  had  stacked  their  arms, 
built  camp-fires,  constructed  booths  of  boughs  and  corn- 
stalks, and  were  boiling  their  buckwheat  grits. 

It  was  growing  dark.  Pale  blue  clouds  scudded  over 
the  sky.  The  fog,  changed  into  a  drizzly,  damp  mist,  wet 
the  earth  and  the  overcoats  of  the  s  Idiers ;  the  horizon 
grew  narrower,  and  the  surroundings  were  overcast  with 
gloomy  shadows.  The  dampness,  which  I  felt  through 
my  boots  and  behind  my  neck,  the  motion  and  conversa- 
tion, in  which  I  took  no  part,  the  viscous  mud,  in  which 
my  feet  slipped,  and  my  empty  stomach,  put  me  in  a  very 
heavy  and  disagreeable  mood,  after  a  day  of  physical  and 
moral  fatigue.  Velenchuk  did  not  leave  my  mind.  The 
whole  simple  story  of  his  military  life  uninterruptedly 
obtruded  on  my  imagination. 

His  last  minutes  were  as  clear  and  tranquil  as  all  his 
life.  He  had  hved  too  honestly  and  too  simply  for 
his  whole-souled  faith  in  a  future,  heavenly  life  to  be 
shaken  at  such  a  decisive  moment. 

"  Your  Honour,"  said  Nikolaev,  approaching  me,  "  you 
are  invited  to  take  tea  with  the  captain." 

Making  my  way  between  the  stacked  arms  and  the 
fires,  I  followed  Nikolaev  to  Bolkhov's,  dreaming  with 
pleasure  of  a  glass  of  hot  tea  and  a  cheerful  conversation, 
which  would  drive  away  my  gloomy  thoughts.     "  Well, 

609 


510       THE  CUTTING  OF  THE  FOREST 

have  you  found  him  ? "  was  heard  Bolkhov's  voice  from 
a  corn-stalk  tent,  in  which  a  candle  was  glimmering. 

"  I  have  brought  him,  your  Honour ! "  was  Nikolaev's 
reply  in  a  heavy  bass. 

In  the  booth,  Bolkhdv  sat  on  a  felt  mantle,  his  coat 
being  unbuttoned,  and  his  cap  off.  Near  him  a  samovd.r 
was  boiling,  and  a  drum  stood  with  a  lunch  upon  it.  A 
bayonet,  with  a  candle  on  it,  was  stuck  in  the  ground, 
"  Well,  how  do  you  like  this  ? "  he  said,  proudly,  survey- 
ing his  cosy  little  home.  Indeed,  the  booth  was  so  com- 
fortable, that  at  tea  I  entirely  forgot  the  dampness,  the 
darkness,  and  Velenchuk's  wound.  We  talked  about 
Moscow  and  about  objects  that  had  no  relation  whatso- 
ever to  the  war  and  to  the  Caucasus. 

After  one  of  those  minutes  of  silence,  which  frequently 
interrupt  the  most  animated  conversations,  Bolkhov 
glanced  at  me  with  a  smile. 

"  I  suppose  our  morning  conversation  must  have  ap- 
peared very  strange  to  you  ? "  he  said. 

"  No.  Why  should  it  ?  All  I  thought  was  that  you 
were  very  frank,  whereas  there  are  some  things  which  we 
aU  know  but  which  one  ought  not  to  mention." 

"  Not  at  all !  If  I  had  a  chance  of  exchanging  this 
life  for  a  most  wretched  and  petty  life,  provided  it  were 
without  perils  and  service,  I  should  not  consider  for  a 
minute." 

"  Wliy  do  you  not  go  back  to  Eussia  ? "  I  said. 

"  Wliy  ? "  he  repeated.  "  Oh,  I  have  been  thinking  of 
it  quite  awhile.  I  cannot  return  to  Eussia  before  receiv- 
ing the  Anna  and  the  Vladimir  crosses,  —  the  Anna  deco- 
ration around  my  neck  and  a  majorship,  as  I  had  expected 
when  I  came  out  here." 

"  But  why  should  you,  when,  as  you  say,  you  feel  unfit 
for  the  service  here  ? " 

"  But  I  feel  myself  even  more  unfit  to  return  to  Eussia 
in  the  condition  in  which  I  left  it.     This  is  another  tradi- 


THE  CUTTING  OF  THE  FOREST       511 

tion,  current  in  Eussia  and  confirmed  by  Passek,  Slyeptsov, 
and  others,  that  all  one  has  to  do  is  to  come  to  the  Cau- 
casus, in  order  to  be  overwhelmed  with  rewards.  Every- 
body expects  and  demands  this  of  us ;  and  here  I  have  been 
two  years,  have  taken  part  in  two  expeditions,  and  have 
not  received  anything  yet.  I  have  so  much  egotism  that 
I  will  not  leave  this  place  until  I  am  made  a  major  with 
the  Vladimir  and  Anna  around  my  neck.  I  have  got  so 
far  into  this,  that  nothing  will  mortify  me  so  much  as  to 
have  Gnilokishkin  get  this  promotion,  and  me  not  get 
one.  Then  again,  how  can  I  show  up  in  Russia  before  my 
elder,  the  merchant  Kot^lnikov,  to  whom  I  sell  my  grain, 
liefore  my  Moscow  aunt,  and  before  all  those  gentlemen, 
after  two  years  in  the  Caucasus,  without  any  advance- 
ment ?  It  is  true,  I  do  not  care  to  know  these  gentle- 
men, and,  no  doubt,  they  care  very  little  for  me ;  and  yet 
a  man  is  so  built  that,  although  he  does  not  care  one  bit 
for  such  gentlemen,  he  wastes  the  best  years,  the  whole 
happiness  of  his  life,  and  his  whole  future  on  account  of 
them." 


XI. 

Just  then  the  voice  of  tlie  commander  of  the  battalion 
was  heard  outside  the  tent :  "  With  whom  are  you  there, 
Nikolay  F(5dorovich  ? " 

Bolkhdv  gave  him  my  name,  and  thereupon  three 
officers  entered  the  booth:  Major  Kirsanov,  the  adjutant 
of  his  battahou,  and  the  captain,  Tros^nko, 

Kirsanov  was  a  short,  plump  man,  with  a  black  mous- 
tache, ruddy  cheeks,  and  sparkling  eyes.  His  small  eyes 
were  the  most  prominent  feature  of  his  face.  Whenever 
he  laughed,  all  there  was  left  of  them  were  two  moist 
little  stars,  and  these  stars,  together  with  his  stretched 
lips  and  craning  neck,  assumed  a  very  strange  expression 
of  blankness.  Kirsanov  conducted  liimself  in  the  army 
better  than  anybody  else ;  his  inferiors  did  not  speak  ill 
of  him,  and  his  superiors  respected  him,  although  the 
common  opinion  was  that  he  was  exceedingly  dull.  He 
knew  liis  duties,  was  exact  and  zealous,  always  had 
money,  kept  a  carriage  and  a  cook,  and  very  naturally 
knew  how  to  pretend  that  he  was  proud. 

"  What  are  you  chatting  about,  Nikolay  F^dorovich  ? " 
he  said,  upon  entering. 

"  About  the  amenities  of  the  ser^dce  in  the  Caucasus." 

But  just  then  Kirsanov  noticed  me,  a  yunker,  and,  to 
let  me  feel  his  importance,  he  asked,  as  though  not  hear- 
ing Bolkhov's  answer,  and  glancing  at  the  drum : 

"  Are  you  tired,  Nikolay  F^dorovich  ? " 

"  No,  we  —  "  Bolkhov  began. 

612 


THE  CUTTIXa  OF  THE  FOEEST       513 

But  again  the  dignity  of  the  commander  of  the  bat- 
talion seemed  to  demand  that  he  should  inteiTupt  and 
propose  a  new  question. 

"  Was  it  not  a  fine  engagement  we  had  to-day  ? " 

The  adjutant  of  the  battalion  was  a  young  ensign,  who 
had  but  lately  been  promoted  from  yunker,  —  a  modest 
and  quiet  lad,  with  a  bashful  and  good-naturedly  pleasant 
face.  I  had  seen  him  before  at  Bolkhov's.  The  young 
man  used  to  call  on  him  often,  when  he  w^ould  bow,  take 
a  seat  in  the  corner,  for  hours  roll  cigarettes  and  smoke 
them  in  silence,  get  up  again,  salute,  and  walk  away.  He 
was  a  type  of  a  poor  Eussian  yeoman,  who  had  selected 
the  military  career  as  the  only  possible  one  with  his  cul- 
ture, and  who  placed  the  calling  of  an  officer  higher  than 
anything  else  in  the  world,  —  a  simple-hearted,  pleasing 
type  in  spite  of  its  ridiculous  inseparable  appurtenances, 
the  tobacco-pouch,  the  dressing-gown,  the  guitar,  and  the 
moustache  brush,  with  which  we  are  accustomed  to  con- 
nect it.  They  told  of  him  in  the  army  that  he  had  boasted 
of  being  just,  but  severe  with  his  orderly,  that  he  had 
said,  "  I  rarely  punish,  but  when  I  am  provoked  they 
had  better  look  out,"  and  that,  when  his  drunken  orderly 
had  stolen  a  number  of  things  of  him  and  had  even 
begun  to  insult  him,  he  had  brought  him  to  the  guard- 
house, and  ordered  him  to  be  chastised,  but  that  when  he 
saw  the  preparations  for  the  punishment,  he  so  completely 
lost  his  composure  that  he  was  able  only  to  say,  "  Now, 
you  see  —  I  can  — "  and  that  in  utter  confusion  he  ran 
home,  and  never  again  was  able  to  look  straight  into  the 
eyes  of  his  Chernov.  His  comrades  gave  him  no  rest, 
and  teased  him  about  it,  and  I  had  several  times  heard 
the  simple-minded  lad  deny  the  allegation,  and,  blushing 
up  to  his  ears,  insist  that  it  was  not  only  not  true,  but 
that  quite  the  opposite  was  the  fact. 

The  third  person.  Captain  Tros^nko,  was  an  old  Cau- 
casus soldier  in  the  full  sense  of  the  word,  that  is,  a  man 


514  THE    CUTTING    OF   THE   FOREST 

for  whom  the  company  which  he  was  commanding  had 
become  his  family,  the  fortress  where  the  staff  was  stationed 
liis  home,  and  the  singers  his  only  amusement  in  life, 
—  a  man  for  whom  everything  which  was  not  the  Cau- 
casus was  worthy  t)f  contempt,  and  almost  undeserving 
belief;  but  everything  which  was  the  Caucasus  was 
divided  into  two  halves,  ours,  and  not  ours ;  the  first 
he  loved,  the  second  he  hated  with  all  the  powers  of  his 
soul,  and,  what  is  most  important,  he  was  a  man .  of  tried, 
quiet  bravery,  rare  kindness  of  heart  in  relation  to  his 
comrades  and  inferiors,  and  of  an  aggravating  straight- 
forwardness and  even  rudeness  in  relation  to  adjutants 
and  honjours,  whom  he  for  some  reason  despised.  Upon 
entering  the  booth,  he  almost  pierced  the  roof  with  his 
head,  then  suddenly  lowered  it,  and  sat  down  on  the 
ground. 

"  Well  ?"  he  said,  and,  suddenly  noticing  my  unfamiliar 
face,  he  stopped,  gazing  at  me  with  his  turbid,  fixed 
glance. 

"  So,  what  were  you  talking  about  ?  "  asked  the  major, 
taking  out  his  watch  and  looking  at  it,  though  I  was 
firmly  convinced  that  there  was  no  need  for  his  doing  so. 

"He  was  asking  me  why  I  was  serving  here." 

"  Of  course,  Nikolay  F^dorovich  wants  to  distinguish 
himself  here,  and  then  go  back  home." 

"  Well,  you  tell  me,  Abram  Ilich,  why  do  you  serve  in 
the  Caucasus  ? " 

"  Because,  you  see,  in  the  first  place,  we  are  all  obliged 
to  serve.  What  ? "  he  added,  though  all  were  silent 
"  Yesterday  I  received  a  letter  from  Eussia,  Nikolay 
F^dorovich,"  he  continued,  evidently  desiring  to  change 
the  subject.  "They  write  to  me  —  they  make  such 
strange  inquiries." 

"  What  inquiries  ?  "  asked  Bolkhov. 

He  laughed. 

"  Eeally,   strange     questions  —  they    want    to    know 


THE  CUTTING  OF  THE  FOREST       515 

whether  there  can  be  any  jealousy  without  love  — 
What  ?  "  he  asked,  looking  at  all  of  us. 

"  I  say  !  "  said  Bolkhdv,  smiling. 

"  Yes,  you  see,  it  is  good  in  Russia,"  he  continued,  as 
though  his  phrases  naturally  proceeded  each  from  the 
previous  one.  "  When  I  was  in  Tambov  in  '52,  I  was 
everywhere  received  like  an  aid-de-camp.  Will  you 
believe  me,  at  the  governor's  ball,  when  I  entered,  don't 
you  know,  I  was  beautifully  received.  The  wife  of  the 
governor,  you  know,  talked  with  me  and  asked  me  about 
the  Caucasus,  and  all  —  really  I  did  not  know  —  They 
looked  at  my  gold  sabre  as  at  a  rarity,  and  they  asked 
me  what  I  got  the  sabre  for,  and  for  what  the  Anna 
cross,  and  for  what  the  Vladimir  cross,  and  I  told  them  — 
What  ?  —  This  is  what  the  Caucasus  is  good  for,  Nikolay 
F^dorovich ! "  he  continued,  not  waiting  for  an  answer. 
"  There  they  look  at  us,  Caucasus  officers,  very  well. 
Young  man,  you  know,  a  stafl'-ofiicer  with  an  Anna  and 
a  Vladimir  cross,  —  that  means  a  great  deal  in  Russia  — 
What  ? " 

"  I  suppose  you  did  a  little  bragging,  Abram  Ilich  ? " 
said  Bolkhov. 

"  He-he ! "  he  laughed  his  stupid  smile.  "  You  know 
one  must  do  that.  And  I  did  feast  during  those  two 
months ! " 

"  Is  it  nice  there,  in  Russia  ? "  asked  Trosenko,  inquir- 
ing about  Russia  as  though  it  were  China  or  Japan. 

"  Yes,  it  was  an  awful  lot  of  champagne  we  drank 
during  those  two  months ! " 

"  I  don't  believe  it.  You  must  have  drunk  lemonade. 
If  I  had  been  there,  I  would  have  burst  drinking,  just  to 
show  them  how  officers  of  the  Caucasus  drink.  My  repu- 
tation would  not  be  for  notliing.  I  would  have  showed 
them  how  to  drink  —     Hey,  Bolkhdv  ? "  he  added. 

"  But  you,  uncle,  have  been  for  ten  years  in  the 
Caucasus,"    said    Bolkhov,    "  and    do    you     remember 


516  THE    CUTTING    OF    THE    FOREST 

what  Ermoldv  said?  And  Abram  Ilich  has  been  only 
sLx  — " 

"  Ten  years  ?     It  is  nearly  sixteen," 

"  Bolkhov,  let  us  have  some  of  your  sage.  It  is  damp, 
brrrr !  Hey  ? "  he  added,  smiling.  "  Let  us  have  a 
drink,  major!" 

But  the  major  was  dissatisfied  with  the  first  remarks 
of  the  old  captain,  and  now  was  even  more  mortified,  and 
sought  a  refuge  in  his  own  grandeur.  He  tuned  a  song, 
and  again  looked  at  his  watch. 

"I  will  never  travel  to  Eussia,"  continued  Tros^nko, 
paying  no  attention  to  the  frowning  major.  "I  have 
forgotten  how  to  walk  and  talk  like  a  Eussian.  They 
wall  say,  '  What  monster  is  this  that  has  arrived.'  I  say, 
this  is  Asia.  Is  it  not  so,  Nikolay  Fedorovich  ?  What 
am  I  to  do  in  Eussia?  AH  the  same,  I  shall  be  shot 
some  day  here.  They  will  ask,  '  Where  is  Tros^nko  ? ' 
Shot.  What  are  you  going  to  do  with  the  eighth  com- 
pany —  eh  ? "  he  added,  addressing  the  major  all  the 
time. 

"  Send  the  officer  of  the  day  along  the  battalion ! " 
shouted  Kirsanov,  without  replying  to  the  captain, 
though  I  was  again  convinced  that  he  had  no  orders 
to  give. 

"  I  suppose  you  are  glad,  young  man,  that  you  are 
receiving  double  pay  now  ? "  said  the  major,  after  a  few 
minutes'  silence,  to  the  adjutant  of  the  battalion. 

"  Of  course,  very  much  so." 

"I  find  that  our  pay  is  now  very  large,  Nikolay 
Fddorovich,"  he  continued.  "A  young  man  can  hve 
quite  decently,  and  even  allow  himself  some  luxuries." 

"  No,  really,  Abram  Ilich,"  timidly  said  the  adjutant, 
"though  the  pay  is  double,  yet — one  must  keep  a 
horse  —  " 

"  Don't  tell  me.  that,  young  man !  I  have  myself  been 
an  ensign,  and  I  know.     Believe  me,  one  can  live,  with 


THE    CUTTING    OF    THE    FOREST  517 

proper  care.  N"ow,  figure  up,"  he  added,  bending  the  httle 
finger  of  his  left  hand. 

"  We  take  all  our  pay  in  advance,  —  so  here  is  your 
calculation,"  said  Tros^nko,  swallowing  a  wine-glass  of 
brandy. 

"  Well,  what  do  you  want  for  that  —     What  ?  " 

At  this  moment  a  white  head  with  a  flat  nose  was 
thrust  through  the  opening  of  the  booth,  and  a  sharp 
voice  with  a  German  accent  said : 

"  Are  you  here,  Abram  Ilich  ?  The  ofhcer  of  the  day 
is  looking  for  you." 

"  Come  in,  Kraft !  "  said  Bolkhdv. 

A  long  figure  in  the  coat  of  the  general  staff  squeezed 
through  the  door,  and  began  to  press  everybody's  hands 
with  great  fervour. 

"  Ah,  dear  captain !  you  are  here,  too  ? "  he  said, 
addressing  Trosenko. 

The  new  guest,  in  spite  of  the  darkness,  made  his  way 
toward  him,  and  to  the  captain's  great  surprise  and  dissat- 
isfaction, as  I  thought,  kissed  his  lips. 

"  This  is  a  German  who  wants  to  be  a  good  comrade," 
I  thought. 


XII. 

My  supposition  was  soon  confirmed.  Captain  Kraft 
asked  for  some  brandy,  calling  it  by  its  popular  name, 
and  clearing  his  throat  terribly,  and  throwing  back  his 
head,  drained  the  wine-glass. 

"  Well,  gentlemen,  we  have  crisscrossed  to-day  over 
the  plains  of  the  Chechnya,"  he  began,  but,  upon  noticing 
the  officer  of  the  day,  he  grew  silent,  so  as  to  give  the 
major  a  chance  to  give  his  orders. 

"  Well,  have  you  inspected  the  cordon  ?  " 

"  I  have,  sir." 

"  Have  the  ambushes  been  sent  out  ? " 

"  They  have  been,  sir." 

"  Then  communicate  the  order  to  the  commanders  of 
the  companies  to  be  as  cautious  as  possible ! " 

"  Yes,  sir." 

The  major  closed  his  eyes  and  became  thoughtful. 

"  Tell  the  people  that  they  may  now  cook  their  grits." 

"  They  are  cooking  them  now." 

"  Very  well.     You  may  go." 

"  Well,  we  were  figuring  out  what  an  officer  needed," 
continued  the  major,  with  a  condescending  smile,  address- 
ing us.     "  Let  us  figure  out !  " 

"  You  need  one  uniform  and  a  pair  of  trousers.  Is  it 
not  so  ? " 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Let  us  call  it  fifty  r()ul)les  for  two  years  ;  consequently, 
this  makes  twenty-five  roubles  a  year  for  clothes  ;  then  for 
board  forty  kopeks  a  day.     Is  that  right  ? " 

518 


THE  CUTTING  OF  THE  FOREST       519 

"  Yes  ;  it  is  even  too  much." 

"  Well,  let  us  suppose  it.  Then,  for  the  horse  with  the 
saddle  for  the  remount,  thirty  roubles,  —  that  is  all.  That 
makes  in  all  twenty-five,  and  one  hundred  and  twenty, 
and  thirty,  equal  to  one  hundred  and  seventy-five  roubles. 
There  is  still  left  enough  for  luxuries,  for  tea  and  sugar, 
and  for  tobacco, —  say  twenty  roubles.  Don't  you  see? 
Am  I  right,  Nikolay  F^dorovich  ? " 

"  No,  excuse  me,  Abram  Ilich  ! "  timidly  remarked  the 
adjutant.  "  Nothing  will  be  left  for  tea  and  sugar.  You 
figure  one  pair  for  two  years,  whereas  in  these  expeditions 
you  can't  get  enough  pantaloons.  And  the  boots  ?  I  wear 
out  a  pair  almost  every  month.  Then  the  underwear, 
the  shirts,  the  towels,  the  sock-rags,  all  these  have  to  be 
bought.  Count  it  up  and  nothing  will  be  left.  Upon  my 
word,  it  is  so,  Abram  Ilich." 

"Yes,  it  is  fine  to  wear  sock-rags,"  Kraft  suddenly 
remarked  after  a  moment's  silence,  with  special  delight 
pronouncing  the  word  "  sock-rags."  "  You  know  it  is  so 
simple,  so  Russian  ! " 

'*  I  will  tell  you  something,"  said  Tros^nko.  "  Count  as 
you  may,  it  will  turn  out  that  we  fellows  ought  to  be 
shelved,  whereas  in  reality  we  manage  to  live,  and  to 
drink  tea,  and  to  smoke  tobacco,  and  to  drink  brandy. 
After  you  have  served  as  long  as  I  have,"  he  continued, 
addressing  the  ensign,  "  you  will  learn  how  to  get  along. 
Do  you  know,  gentlemen,  how  he  treats  his  orderly  ?" 

And  Tros^uko,  almost  dying  with  laughter,  told  us  the 
whole  story  of  the  ensign  with  his  orderly,  although  we 
had  heard  it  a  thousand  times  before. 

"  My  friend,  what  makes  you  look  like  a  rose  ? "  he 
continued,  addressing  the  ensign,  who  was  blushing,  per- 
spiring, and  smiling  so  that  it  was  a  pity  to  look  at  him. 
"  Never  mind,  I  was  just  like  you,  and  yet  I  have 
turned  out  to  be  a  fine  fellow.  You  let  a  young  fello"^ 
from  Russia  get  down  here,  —  we  have  seen  some  of  them, 


520  THE    CUTTING    OF    THE    FOREST 

—  and  he  will  get  spasms  and  rheumatism,  and  all  such 
things  !  But  I  am  settled  here,  —  here  is  my  house,  my 
bed,  and  everything.     You  see  —  " 

Saying  which,  he  drained  another  wine-glass  of  brandy. 

"  Ah  ! "  he  added,  looking  fixedly  into  Kraft's  eyes. 

"  This  is  what  I  respect !  This  is  a  genuine  old  Cau- 
casus officer  !     Let  me  have  your  hand  !  " 

Kraft  pushed  us  all  aside,  made  his  way  toward  Tro- 
s^nko,  and,  grasping  his  hand,  shook  it  with  much  feeling. 

"  Yes,  we  may  say  that  we  have  experienced  everything 
here,"  he  continued.  "  In  the  year  '45  —  you  were  there, 
captain?  —  do  you  remember  the  night  of  the  12th 
which  we  passed  knee-deep  in  the  mud  and  how  the  next 
day  we  went  into  the  abatis  ?  I  was  then  attached  to  the 
commander-in-cliief,  and  we  took  fifteen  abatises  in  one 
day.     Do  you  remember  it,  captain  ? " 

Troseuko  made  a  sign  of  confirmation  with  his  head, 
and  closed  liis  eyes,  and  protruded  his  lower  lip. 

"  So  you  see  — "  began  Kraft,  with  much  animation, 
and  making  inappropriate  gestures  while  addressing  the 
major. 

I3ut  the  major,  who  no  doubt  had  heard  the  story  more 
than  once,  suddenly  looked  with  such  dim,  dull  eyes  at 
his  interlocutor  that  Kraft  turned  away  from  him  and 
addressed  Bolkhov  and  me,  glancing  now  at  one,  now  at 
the  other.  At  Tros^nko  he  did  not  once  look  during  his 
recital. 

"  So  you  see,  when  we  went  out  in  the  morning,  the 
commander-in-cliief  said  to  me,  *  Kraft,  take  the  abatises  ! ' 
You  know,  our  military  service  demands  obedience  with- 
out reflection,  —  so,  hand  to  the  visor,  *  Yes,  your  Excel- 
lency ! '  and  off  I  went.  "When  we  reached  the  first  abatis 
I  turned  around  and  said  to  the  soldiers,  '  Boys,  courage ! 
Look  sharp  !  He  who  lags  behind  will  be  cut  down  by 
my  own  hand.'  With  a  Eussian  soldier,  you  know,  you 
must  speak  plainly.     Suddenly  —  a  shell.     I  looked,  one 


THE    CUTTING    OF    THE    FOREST  521 

soldier,  another  soldier,  a  third,  then  bullets — whizz-! 
whizz  !  whizz  !  Says  I,  '  Forward,  boys,  after  me  ! '  No 
sooner  had  we  reached  it,  you  know,  we  looked,  and  there 
I  saw  that  —  you  know  —  what  do  you  call  it  ?  "  and  the 
narrator  waved  his  arms  in  his  attempt  to  find  the  proper 
word. 

"  A  ditch,"  Bolkhov  helped  him  out. 

«  No  —  ah,  what  is  it  called  ?  My  God  !  Well,  what 
is  it  ?  —  a  ditch,"  he  said,  hurriedly.  "  We,  '  Charge 
bayonets ! '  —  Hurrah  !  Ta-ra-ta-ta-ta  !  Not  a  soul  of  the 
enemy.  You  know  we  were  all  surprised.  Very  well. 
We  marched  ahead,  —  the  second  abatis.  That  was  an- 
other matter.  We  were  now  on  our  mettle.  No  sooner 
did  we  walk  up  than  we  saw,  I  observed,  the  second 
abatis,  —  impossible  to  advance.  Here  —  what  do  you 
call  it,  well,  what  is  that  name  ?  —  ah,  what  is  it  ?  —  " 

"  Again  a  ditch,"  I  helped  him  out. 

"  Not  at  all,"  he  continued,  excitedly.  "  No,  not  a 
ditch,  but  —  well,  what  do  you  call  it  ? "  and  he  made  an 
insipid  gesture  with  his  hand.  "  Ah,  my  God  !  What  do 
you  call  it  ?  " 

He  was  apparently  suffering  so  much  that  we  wanted 
to  help  him  out. 

"  Maybe  a  river,"  said  Bolkhov. 

"  No,  simply  a  ditch.  But  the  moment  we  went  up 
there  was  such  a  fire,  a  hell  —  " 

Just  then  somebody  asked  for  me  outside  the  tent.  It 
was  Maksimov.  Since  there  were  thirteen  other  abatises 
left  after  having  listened  to  the  varied  story  of  the  first 
two,  I  was  glad  to  use  this  as  an  excuse  for  leaving  for 
my  platoon.  Tros^nko  went  out  with  me.  "  He  is  lying," 
he  said  -to  me  after  we  had  walked  several  steps  away 
from  the  booth,  "  he  never  was  in  the  abatises,"  and  Tro- 
senko  laughed  so  heartily  that  I,  too,  felt  amused. 


XIII. 

It  was  dark  night,  and  the  fires  dimly  illuminated  the 
camp,  when  I,  having  put  everything  away,  walked  up  to 
my  soldiers.  A  large  stump  was  ghmmering  on  the  coals. 
Three  soldiers  only  were  sitting  around  it :  Ant6nov,  who 
was  turning  around  on  the  fire  a  httle  kettle  in  which 
hardtack  soaked  in  lard  was  cooking,  Zhdanov,  who  was 
thoughtfully  poking  the  ashes  with  a  stick,  and  Chikin, 
with  his  eternally  unhghted  pipe.  The  others  had  already 
retired  for  their  rest,  some  under  the  caissons,  others  in 
the  hay,  and  others  again  around  the  fires.  In  the  faint 
light  of  coals  I  could  distinguish  the  famihar  backs,  legs, 
and  heads ;  among  the  latter  was  also  the  recruit,  who 
was  lying  close  to  the  fire  and  was  apparently  asleep. 
Antonov  made  a  place  for  me.  I  sat  down  near  him  and 
lighted  my  pipe.  The  mist  and  the  pungent  smoke  from 
the  green  wood  was  borne  through  the  air,  and  made  my 
eyes  smart,  and  the  same  damp  mist  drizzled  down  from 
the  murky  sky. 

Near  us  could  be  heard  the  even  snoring,  the  crackling 
of  the  branches  in  the  fire,  a  light  conversation,  and  occa- 
sionally the  clattering  of  the  infantry  muskets.  All  about 
us  glowed  the  fires,  illuminating  in  a  small  circle  the 
black  shadows  of  the  soldiers.  At  the  nearest  fires  I 
could  distinguish  in  the  lighted  spaces  the  figures  of 
naked  soldiers  waving  their  shirts  over  the  very  fire. 
Many  other  men  were  not  asleep,  but  moving  about  and 
^speaking  in  the  space  of  fifteen  square  fathoms ;  but  the 
dark,  gloomy  night  gave  a  peculiar,  mysterious  aspect  to 

522 


THE  CUTTING  OF  THE  FOREST       523 

all  this  motion,  as  though  all  felt  this  melancholy  quiet 
and  were  afraid  to  break  its  tranquil  harmony.  When  I 
began  to  speak,  I  felt  that  my  voice  sounded  quite  differ- 
ently ;  in  the  faces  of  all  the  soldiers  who  were  sitting 
near  the  fire  I  read  the  same  mood.  I  thought  that  pre- 
vious to  my  arrival  they  had  been  speaking  of  their 
wounded  companion,  but  that  was  not  at  all  the  case: 
Chikin  was  telling  al)out  the  reception  of  goods  at  Tiilis, 
and  about  the  schoolboys  of  that  city. 

Always  and  everywhere,  but  especially  in  the  Caucasus, 
have  I  noticed  the  peculiar  tact  of  our  soldiers,  who,  dur- 
ing peril,  pass  over  in  silence  and  avoid  all  such  things  as 
might  unhappily  affect  the  minds  of  their  comrades.  The 
spirit  of  the  Russian  soldiers  is  not  based,  like  the  bravery 
of  the  southern  nations,  on  an  easily  inflamed,  and  just  as 
easily  extinguished,  enthusiasm.  They  do  not  need  effects, 
speeches,  military  cries,  songs,*  and  drums ;  they  need,  on 
the  contrary,  quiet,  order,  and  the  absence  of  all  banality. 
In  Russian,  real  Russian,  soldiers,  you  will  never  observe 
vain  bragging,  posing,  a  desire  to  obscure  themselves  and 
to  excite  themselves  in  time  of  danger ;  on  the  contrary, 
modesty,  simplicity,  and  an  ability  to  see  in  a  danger 
sometliing  else  than  the  danger  itself,  are  the  distinctive 
features  of  their  character. 

I  have  seen  an  outrider,  who  had  been  wounded  in  his 
leg,  in  the  first  moment  express  his  regrets  only  for  the 
torn  fur  coat,  and  then  creep  out  from  under  the  horse, 
which  had  been  killed  under  him,  and  loosen  the  straps, 
in  order  to  take  off  the  saddle.  Who  does  not  remember 
the  incident  at  the  siege  of  G6'gebel,  when  the  fuse  of  a 
bomb  which  had  just  been  filled  caught  fire  in  the  labora- 
tory, and  the  artificer  told  two  soldiers  to  take  the  bomb 
and  run  away  as  fast  as  possible,  in  order  to  throw  it 
into  a  ditch ;  the  soldiers  did  not  throw  it  away  in  the 
nearest  place,  which  was  not  far  from  the  colonel's  tent, 
which  stood  over  the  ditch,  but  carried  it  farther  away, 


524       THE  CUTTING  OF  THE  FOREST 

not  to  wake  the  gentlemen  who  were  sleeping  in  the  tent, 
and  so  they  were  both  torn  to  pieces.  I  remember  how, 
during  frontier  service  in  1852,  one  of  the  young  soldiers, 
for  some  reason,  remarked  during  an  action,  that  he 
thought  the  platoon  would  never  come  out  alive  from  it, 
and  how  the  whole  platoon  angrily  upbraided  him  for  such 
evil  words,  which  they  would  not  even  repeat. 

Even  now,  when  the  thought  of  Velenchiik  ought  to 
have  been  in  everybody's  mind,  and  when  any  moment  a 
volley  might  be  fired  by  Tartars  creeping  up  to  the  camp, 
everybody  was  listening  to  Chikin's  animated  story,  and 
nobody  recalled  the  action  of  the  morning,  nor  the  immi- 
nent danger,  nor  the  wounded  man,  as  though  all  that 
had  happened  God  knows  how  long  ago,  or  not  at  all. 
But  it  seemed  to  me  that  their  faces  were  a  little  more 
melancholy  than  usual ;  they  did  not  listen  very  atten- 
tively to  Chikin's  story,  and  even  Chikin  felt  that  he  was 
not  listened  to,  and  kept  talking  from  mere  force  of  habit. 

Maksimov  went  up  to  the  fire  and  sat  down  near  me. 
Chikin  made  a  place  for  him,  grew  silent,  and  again  started 
sucking  his  pipe. 

"  The  foot-soldiers  Iiave  sent  to  camp  for  brandy,"  said 
Maksimov,  after  a  considerable  silence.  "  They  have  just 
returned."  He  spit  into  the  fire.  "  An  under-officer  told 
me  tliat  he  saw  our  man." 

"  Well,  is  he  still  alive  ? "  asked  Antdnov,  turning  his 
kettle. 

"  No,  he  is  dead." 

The  recruit  in  the  small  red  cap  suddenly  raised  his 
head  above  the  fire,  for  a  moment  looked  fixedly  at  Maksi- 
mov and  at  me,  then  swiftly  lowered  his  head,  and 
wrapped  himself  in  his  overcoat. 

"  You  see,  death  did  not  come  to  him  for  nothing  this 
morning,  as  I  was  waking  him  in  the  park,"  said  Antdnov. 

"  Nonsense  I "  said  Zhdanov,  turning  around  a  glowing 
stump,  and  ail  grew  silent. 


THE  CUTTING  OF  THE  FOREST       525 

Amid  a  uuiversal  sileuce,  there  was  heard  a  shot  behind 
us  in  the  camp.  Our  drummers  took  note  of  it,  and  gave 
the  tattoo.  When  the  last  roll  died  down,  Zhdanov  was 
the  first  to  rise ;  he  took  off  his  cap,  and  we  all  followed 
his  example. 

Amid  the  deep  hush  of  the  night  was  heard  the  har- 
monious chorus  of  male  voices  : 

"  Our  Father  which  art  in  heaven.  Hallowed  be  Thy 
name.  Thy  kingdom  come.  Thy  will  be  done,  as  in 
heaven,  so  in  earth.  Give  us  to-day  our  daily  bread. 
And  forgive  us  our  sins ;  for  we  also  forgive  every  one 
that  is  indebted  to  us.  And  lead  us  not  into  temptation, 
but  deliver  us  from  evil." 

"It  was  in  the  year  '45  that  one  of  our  men  was  con- 
tused in  the  same  spot,"  said  Antonov,  after  we  had  put 
on  our  caps,  and  had  seated  ourselves  again  at  the  fire. 
"We  carried  him  for  two  days  on  the  ordnance  —  Zhda- 
nov, do  you  remember  Shevchenko  ?  We  left  him  there 
under  a  tree." 

Just  then  an  infantry  soldier,  with  immense  whiskers 
and  moustache,  and  wearing  his  cartridge-box,  walked 
over  to  us. 

"  Countrymen,  may  I  have  some  fire  to  Hght  my  pipe 
with  ?  "  he  said. 

"  Light  it,  there  is  plenty  of  fire  here,"  remarked  Chikin. 

"  Countryman,  you  are,  I  suppose,  telling  about  Dargi," 
the  foot-soldier  said,  turning  to  Antonov. 

"  Yes,  about  the  year  '45,  at  Dargi,"  replied  Antonov. 

The  foot-soldier  shook  his  head,  closed  his  eyes,  and 
squatted  down  near  us. 

"  It  was  dreadful  there,"  he  remarked. 

"  Why  did  you  leave  him  ? "  I  asked  of  Antdnov. 

"  He  had  terrible  pain  in  his  abdomen.  As  long  as  we 
stood  still,  it  was  all  right ;  but  the  moment  we  moved,  he 
shrieked  terribly.  He  entreated  us  to  leave  him,  but 
we  pitied  him.     But  when  he  began  to  harass  us,   and 


526       THE  CUTTING  OF  THE  FOREST 

had  killed  three  men  on  our  guns,  and  an  officer,  and  we 
had  gone  astray  from  our  battery,  it  was  terrible,  —  we 
thought  we  should  never  get  the  gun  away.  It  was  so 
muddy." 

"  The  worst  was,  it  was  muddy  at  Indian  Mountain," 
remarked  a  soldier. 

"  Well,  and  he  grew  worse !  Then  we  considered,  — 
Anoshenka  and  I,  —  Anoshenka  was  an  old  gun-sergeant, 

—  that  he  could  not  hve  anyway,  and  that  he  invoked 
God  to  leave  him.  And  so  we  concluded  we  would  do 
so.  There  was  a  brandling  tree  growing  there.  We  put 
down  near  him  soaked  hardtack,  —  Zhdanov  had  some, 

—  and  leaned  him  against  the  tree ;  we  put  a  clean  shirt 
on  Mm,  bade  him  farewell,  as  was  proper,  and  left  him." 

"  Was  he  a  good  soldier  ? " 

"  A  pretty  good  one,"  remarked  Zhdanov. 

"  God  knows  what  became  of  him,"  continued  Antonov, 
"  We  left  many  soldiers  there." 

"In  Dargi  ? "  said  the  foot-soldier,  rising  and  poking 
his  pipe,  and  again  closing  his  eyes  and  shaking  his  head. 
"  Yes,  it  was  terrible  there." 

And  he  went  away  from  us. 

"  Are  there  many  soldiers  in  the  battery  who  have  been 
at  Dai'gi  ?  "  I  asked. 

"Well!  Zhdanov,  I,  Patsan,  who  is  now  on  leave  of 
absence,  and  six  or  seven  other  men.     That  is  all." 

"I  wonder  whether  Patsan  is  having  a  good  time  on 
his  leave  of  absence,"  said  Chikin,  stretcliing  out  his  legs 
and  putting  his  head  on  a  log.  "  It  wiU  soon  be  a  year 
since  he  left."  , 

"  Did  you  take  the  annual  leave  ? "  I  asked  Zhdanov. 

"  No,  I  did  not,"  he  answered,  reluctantly. 

"  But  it  is  good  to  go,"  said  Antonov,  "  when  one  is 
from  a  well-to-do  house,  or  still  able  to  work.  It  is 
pleasant,  and  people  at  home  are  glad  to  see  you." 

"  What  use  is  there  in  going,  when   there   are   two 


THE    CUTTING    OF    THE    FOREST  527 

brothers  ? "  continued  Zhdanov.  "  They  have  enough  to 
do  to  support  themselves,  so  what  good  would  one  of  us 
soldiers  be  to  them  ?  A  man  is  a  poor  helper  when  he 
has  been  a  soldier  for  twenty-five  years.  And  who  knows 
whether  they  are  alive  ? " 

"  Have  you  not  written  to  them  ? "  I  asked. 

"  Of  course  I  have !  I  have  written  them  twice,  but 
they  have  not  yet  answered.  They  are  either  dead,  or 
they  simply  don't  care  to  answer,  which  means,  they  are 
poor,  and  have  no  time." 

"  How  long  ago  did  you  write  ? " 

"  When  I  came  back  from  Dargi,  I  wrote  my  last 
letter ! " 

"  Sing  the  song  of  the  '  Birch-tree,' "  Zhdanov  said  to 
Antonov,  who,  leaning  on  his  knees,  was  humming  a  song. 

Antonov  sang  the  "  Birch-tree  "  song. 

"  This  is  Uncle  Zhdanov's  favourite  song,"  Chikin  said 
to  me  in  a  whisper,  pulling  me  by  the  overcoat.  "  Many 
a  time,  when  Filipp  Antdnych  sings  it,  he  weeps." 

Zhdanov  sat  at  first  motionless,  his  eyes  directed  on 
the  glowing  coals,  and  his  face,  illuminated  by  the  reddish 
hght,  looked  exceedingly  melancholy ;  then  his  cheeks 
under  his  ears  began  to  move  faster  and  faster,  and  finally 
he  got  up,  spread  out  his  overcoat,  and  lay  down  in  the 
shadow,  beliind  the  fire.  It  may  be  the  way  he  was  toss- 
ing and  groaning,  or  Velenchiik's  death  and  the  gloomy 
weather  had  so  affected  me,  but  I  really  thought  he  was 
crying. 

The  lower  part  of  the  stump,  changed  into  coal,  flickered 
now  and  then  and  illuminated  Antdnov's  figure,  with  his 
gray  moustache,  red  face,  and  his  decorations  on  the  over- 
coat thrown  over  him,  or  lighted  up  somebody's  boots  or 
head.  From  above,  drizzled  the  same  gloomy  mist;  in 
the  air  was  the  same  odour  of  dampness  and  smoke ;  all 
around  me  were  seen  the  same  bright  points  of  dying 
fires,  and  were  heard  amid  a  general  silence  the  sounds 


528  THE    CUTTING    OF    THE    FOREST 

of  Ant(5nov's  melancholy  song ;  and  whenever  it  stopped 
for  a  moment,  its  refrain  was  the  sounds  of  the  faint  noc- 
turnal motion  of  the  camp,  of  the  snoring,  of  the  clatter- 
ing of  the  sentries'  guns,  and  of  subdued  conversation. 

"  Second  watch  !  Makatyuk  and  Zhdanov ! "  shouted 
Maksimov. 

Antonov  stopped  singing ;  Zhdanov  rose,  sighed,  stepped 
across  a  log,  and  slowly  walked  over  to  the  guns. 

June  15, 1855. 


THE  END. 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACII 

'III'   '1  nil 


AA    000  618  417    0 


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